Monster Lord
by Lord Mendasuit
Summary: Harry Potter understands you fight fire with fire. So does Hermione. Voldemort has done all sorts of rituals to increase his power (or so the word goes), so why not try one to increase Harry's? Unfortunately for Harry, they picked one that will leave him feeling a little... blue. (Kind of a crossover with Monmusu Quest except not 'cause no Monmusu Quest category)
1. Prologue

**Monster Lord**

**Prologue: The Magician's Blues  
**

* * *

Summary: Voldemort, in his death eaters, has an army. Harry Potter wishes to fight fire with fire. So Hermione finds a way to get him an army. She should have read the fine print...

* * *

Hermione sighed, as she closed the book she had been reading, the black covers letting loose a shower of dust as they closed. Silver thread woven into the leather of the covers read something written in a language Hermione could not decipher, but she was still certain it was something that hadn't been written by a human. Or so she hoped, at least. It'd had several recipes that she would rather banish from her mind forever.

She leaned back in the comfortable armchair she had transfigured her seat into. It'd been pathetically easy to ward her home against the ministry's ability to check on her illegal use of underage magic... mostly because she'd asked McGonagall about it and the woman had done it herself. Hermione had just been wondering if she'd be able to somehow practice her favorite class (all of them! But especially Arithmancy and Runes) in her home, and McGonagall had said that the regulations were an unfair advantage for purebloods, and thus the staff of Hogwarts had been doing such warding on the side for decades now, ever since Dumbledore took the helm, in order to even the odds.

In return, Hermione had been sworn to secrecy to her head of house, and been trusted enough not to take an unbreakable vow for it. It filled Hermione's heart with warmth that she was trusted that much.

Then again, McGonagall had also used the chance to explain her new duties as prefect.

Hermione's nose twitched as the dust got close to it, but she vanished it before it could force her to sneeze and her nose soon calmed. She thought a little about her new status as prefect and groaned when she realized how much she'd have to cover for Ron. His heart was in the right place, but he was still a lazy idiot. Why couldn't Neville have been picked instead? Or even Finnegan or Thomas? It had to be one of the two laziest boys in Gryffindor!

Harry could only get motivated for Defense and anything that had to do with dueling, probably his self preservation instinct kicking in, and whatever had to do with flying or Quidditch, while Ron could only be arsed to do half assed work that left him with, admittedly, acceptable marks across the board. For Hermione, anyway, for most other people his marks were actually rather good, but Hermione was a straight O student, which meant that to her, standards were very high.

The only responsible boy in Gryffindor was Neville, and Hermione would've preferred to work with someone who wouldn't forget his schedule or who wouldn't randomly stop in the middle of his patrols for no other reason than he was hungry.

Admittedly, Neville would've lacked the spine to really perform his prefect duties. The other two were irresponsible boys too, but less so than either Ron or Harry. It infuriated her, because she knew that both could get very good grades if they just applied themselves. Ron somehow managed to study very little and still get decent grades, and Harry... well, Harry was the very image of pure, raw talent in magic.

Hermione was called talented, but that was wrong. Hermione actually had very little in the way of talent, and relied entirely on her work ethic and intellect to make up for the difference. Ron and Harry were both very talented, but also very lazy.

If she just had half of Harry's talent, she'd already have graduated! The only thing stopping Hermione were her practicals, which she needed to put a lot of work and effort into. That wouldn't be a problem with Harry's uncanny ability to master spells with ease if he was motivated to do it.

Another sigh escaped her, when she stopped to think about Harry. Not for any reasons of romantic interest or anything of the sort, no, more because her best friend had a horrible end of year. A horrible year, period. And now, he was alone in a home that she was almost certain was abusive to him (it'd be so much easier if he'd just stopped resisting and told someone about it, but no, he ha to be difficult!) after having watched the worst event in his life, the resurrection of Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort.

She had resolved to help him, and she had found several ways. Mostly dark rituals that would enhance his power, but all of them required one to be morally bankrupt to perform. Else, she'd have already used them on herself.

There was one that she had found, however, that she could use. The last book she'd been perusing, something she'd obtained from Knockturn Alley (surprisingly, when you get past the filth and the few pickpockets, it was populated by surprisingly nice shopkeepers and helpful bystanders, as well as the occasional auror), was the one that had provided this opportunity. In it, the book held a tale that Hermione was almost certain was fabrication, but what had interested her the most was a specific ritual.

Beyond the tale itself, the book held a collection of interesting ideas, spells and other, minor rituals as well as the recipes for potions and the enchantment of objects in ways Hermione would've never thought of, or believed possible, if she hadn't read about it. Trust her major weakness to show its ugly head when she's doing something this delicate.

"The Monster Lord, huh?" she asked, rubbing her chin. "I can do this," she muttered to herself, looking at the ceiling. The ingredients wouldn't be too hard to procure... Okay, they'd be a bit difficult.

She opened the book again and looked over the list, before pulling a notebook and a pen to write her own version of it.

She needed chalk, to draw the circle. Three dozen candles, no specifications on those... She needed a pair of silver knives along with an assortment of animal guts, all within what she could find on a trip to Diagon Alley...

The worst part, however...

She needed a virgin's blood. That was okay, she was a virgin herself, and could very well give hers... She would've just snorted at this presenting a difficult if the blood required wasn't the blood that would come as a result of her breaking her hymen. Fortunately, the book outright told her it didn't need to be broken through intercourse, so long as she gave it willingly, she could just break it herself and store it for later use.

That was good, considering she also needed a virgin's fluids. You know the kind. She made a face at this, but found that, though not particularly something she'd like to speak about in public, it was far better than the requirements of other rituals, such as the spilled blood of innocents or an unborn fetus for sacrifice.

And again, that didn't need to be fresh either.

Compared to the both of those, storing a little of her saliva was nothing.

A magical creature's fluids were preferred, and a witch counted as magical enough for hers to be useful. They needed to be specially treated to be useful, too, but the book had the instructions on that too, so she was covered.

There were a few potions that she had to make in preparation for this, and the book advised the preparation of healing potions and pain numbing potions in case of failure. The success rate was very, very low. But she'd take the risk. She knew that if anyone could use the power this ritual offered, it was Harry, and she'd be damned before she let her best friend go on to face impossible odds without having done everything she could.

"The problem is the last ingredient," Hermione mused, looking at her room's plain white ceiling in deep thought. "At least the book told me how to extract it... It's-"

* * *

"-Fresh semen, charged with as much magic as possible," Hermione said, scratching the back of her neck.

"... You lost me." Harry asked, too far gone at this point to care. He'd been naked in front of Hermione the past hour while she doodled on the left side of his body, from toes to his face, and had to drink both a vial of her blood and one of her... other secretions. Compared to both of those, the vial of her saliva he'd downed had been mouthwash.

Harry never would've guessed that Grimmauld Place had a basement as vast as this room. A perfectly empty room that was perfect for rituals. Sirius had given them his blessing to use it, as well as thumbs up and pat in the back for Harry himself, though Harry hadn't understood why.

"Semen, Harry, it's that white stuff that comes out of your penis when you masturbate," Hermione said without missing a beat. She'd had biology classes WAAAY worse than explaining to Harry what semen is. Plus, she had drank an entire gallon of calming draught before this. Even then, she was still blushing and if she stopped to think, she was sure she'd probably have already lost her nerve.

"... So I have to... masturbate?"

"Actually, that wouldn't work," Hermione admitted, nervously, offering him an apologetic smile. "In order to get the semen charged with as much magical power as possible, it needs to be extracted in a certain way, and you can't do it to yourself, since it requires magic to do and, well, I'm about to extract pretty much all of yours."

"... That's good, I don't actually know how to... wank, I think Ron called it," Harry admitted, blushing.

Hermione looked at him flatly. "I can't believe that... Well, it being you, I actually sort of can," she admitted. "Ask Ron, or Mr. Weasley, or anyone but me, about it later. And don't you DARE tell them why you're asking, or I will... do something unpleasant to your broom."

Harry's horrified face told her the threat had worked.

"Anyhow, close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you, Harry... Don't worry, the book said this should feel really, really good..."

The painted teen nodded and closed his eyes, trying to relax as much as he possibly could, being naked in front of a girl he thought of as a sister. Then he felt her touch upon his body. "Hermione, what are you- YE GODS!"

He never did get to finish that sentence.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes, blinking a few times to try to get the cobwebs of sleep off them. She groaned as everything in her body screamed at once, but still she smiled. The ritual had worked, she'd felt the incredible sense of satisfaction that had came with her success, and when she stood up from where she'd landed a few metres away from where she'd placed Harry in, she felt the pain go away and the haze on her vision from the ridiculous amount of magical energy in the air dissipate.

Hermione blinked and then looked at the center of the room to see a... snake tail?

Yep. It was a snake tail, and it was curled around something. That something was quickly identifed, as it moved itself to sit upright on its own tail, as well as stretch, throwing its arms up and letting out a content hum. Long and silky white hair moved about as the something moved.

And the something, Hermione was almost entirely certain, was Harry Potter, but... "Blue skin? Snake tail..?" Hermione asked to herself.

The biggest shock, though, came when one Sirius Black wandered into the ritual room underneath Grimmauld Place and let out a loud and long whistle. "Well, Harry, if that's you, I believe I am qualified on no less than twelve levels to say: That is one magnificent pair of tits you've got there," he said with a shameless grin.

Harry looked down upon him... herself.

"I'm blue," he... she said, blinking. Golden eyes surveyed the expanse of belly below him until he reached his tail. The tail then moved until its tip was within Harry's vision range. "And I've got an awesome tail."

Hermione blinked. "Harry, I don't know if you've noticed, but you're also a woman."

"And what a woman!" Sirius added, smiling widely. "Why, if you weren't my godson... Nah, I'd still totally hit it if it was an appropriate time," spoke with zero shame the Black of Black.

"So I am," Harry said, cupping his breasts and feeling them, as if to make sure they were really there. "... Well, this kind of bites," he said, still playing with them.

"You're reacting surprisingly well to this," Hermione noted.

"So are you," Sirius countered for Harry.

"I'm dosed so high up on calming potions that I'm pretty sure I wouldn't get altered if you turned out to be Voldemort in disguise," Hermione answered. "I needed to be able to keep a steady hand while drawing the runes on Harry, and I wasn't going to be able to do that if I lost my nerve and just kept staring at his crotch. What about you?"

"I'm drunk off my ass, so I'm pretty sure this is all a hallucination or a very weird dream," Sirius replied. "And you, Harry?"

"I think that either I am in shock, or this ritual affected me more than I thought... wait, no, it's shock. Pretty sure it's shock," said Harry, nodding.

"How are you so sure?" asked Sirius.

"Because it's wearing off and WHAT THE FUCK!?"

The entire mansion trembled as Harry began to freak out.

* * *

Two days later, on Grimmauld Place Number 12's kitchen...

"Let me get this straight: You convinced Harry to go along with some kind of crazy ritual," Ron stated, getting a nod from Hermione, "to become some sort of super powerful Monster Lord," he continued, obtaining another nod, and he sighed, before continued, "and now Harry's a Lamia. And if I'm seeing this right, he has one amazing set of tits on him," he finished.

"Pretty much, yes," Hermione said, nodding. "At least the ritual worked. He's really, really powerful now. His anger shook the entire house and Sirius said he felt several of the wards collapse. These are really old and powerful wards, too..."

Ron frowned. "... But he's still got tits. And he's a monster, too. Honestly, I don't know how to take this. Harry's... My best friend's now a monster. And a woman. And a monster. And an incredibly hot woman."

"He's not just a monster, though," Hermione countered, frowning. "The book said that if the ritual worked, the recipient would become the Monster Lord. Most other monsters would defer to them and they'd have immense power at their disposal... We don't really have other monsters to check here, but everything that lived in Grimmauld Place left the moment Harry went to his room. Even Kreacher. The poor thing is terrified and seems to be clinging onto Sirius, muttering something about the coming of the Dark Master and how it'll be the Sacred Monster Wars all over again..."

"... Harry has tits..." Ron muttered... "Big tits... they're a little blue but... so big, and round..."

"Harry stop doing that, you know he goes stupid!" Hermione said, turning around and glaring at Harry.

"Hermione, Sirius told me that when this kind of crap happens, the best thing you can do is try to make fun of it so it doesn't suck. At least I get to watch Ron drool all over himself, and the face he makes when he's debating whether to be turned on or weirded out is hilarious," Harry said, nodding sagely. "Also, tattoos of eyes have started showing up all over my body," he began, showing her his arm, where a line lead to the back of the hand, where a stylized eye now was tattooed. Then, he pointed to the hair that fell over his forehead, the white marred by another red, stylized eye, this one vertical. "Also, apparently, I can use several spells just by glaring at people," he added.

"Harry, that's impossib- Actually, it's probably not. What kind of things can you do?" Hermione asked, excited by learning more.

"Well, I was staring at Sirius really hard, and I wanted him to be knocked out, and then suddenly, he was. And then, when Madame Pomfrey was analyzing me, I wanted her to bring me something to eat, and when she said no, all I had to do was look her in the eyes. Hers glazed over and then she brought me food."

"Fascinating... A stupefy and Imperius through youre eyes..."

"Also, I did something to Remus, too. We were talking like normal, and then suddenly, I locked eyes with him and he was throwing himself at me. Once I slapped him, though, he was back to normal. He was blushing and trying to touch my breasts..."

"So you've also got some sort of effect similar to a love potion..." Hermione noted, nodding. "And you are very strong and fast. Have you tried to use magic?"

"Yes. It shall not be repeated," Harry said. "Dumbledore's still trying to unfreeze the ice box. They cast Fiendfyre, the strongest fire spell there is, and the box is still frozen over. Also, these," he began, cupping his breasts, "seem to have some sort of hypnotic effect on men... And Ginny too for some reason..." he said, moving slightly so Hermione could get a better look. As he was moving on a snake tail, he moved his entire body, which caused his breasts to bounce.

Hermione blinked, as she stared. And stared hard.

"So bouncy, big and round..." Ron commented, eloquently.

Hermione blushed bright red. "It's not a hypnotic effect, Harry, they're just... Well, I'm sure you can ask Mrs. Weasley later," she said, hating the fact that her calming draught had run out the morning after Harry's transformation.

"So... how am I gonna go back to Hogwarts like this?" he asked.

And then, suddenly, there was a Wild Dumbledore in the scene. "... I've long been looking for an excuse to open Hogwarts to a more diverse population, and you, my boy... er, girl, will be the perfect one!" Dumbledore said. "I've already altered a set of robes and clothes for you to wear. Fortunately for you, I used to be a bit of a fashionista in my youth and designed clothes for the usage of a pair of gorgons I knew... Poor girls haven't been the same since their youngest sister was killed, a shame, she was a nice lass."

"... Okay," Harry said, shrugging. "If nothing else, at least I'll get some hilarious reactions. And I'll be able to use this body to scare the crap out of Malfoy!"

"That's the spirit, Harry!" Sirius said, walking from behind Dumbledore. "Are you sure I can't touch your boobs? Just a little?"

"Sorry, Sirius, but Hermione told me I shouldn't allow people to touch them," Harry said, apologetically.

"Harry, I think you're a bit too detached. Different or not, this is still your body..."

"Speaking about bodies," Harry said, with a grin, before his skin suddenly turned a healthy shade of human pink and hissnake tail faded. Instants later, the sound of a pair of soft feet touching the wooden floor was heard. "I figured out how to pass as human last night. It feels kind of weird, though, since I no longer have my penis..." he said, gesturing towards his bare crotch. His bare, female crotch.

Ron crashed to the floor on a dead faint, as did Sirius, both with a smile on their faces.

"Well, this makes things so much easier. You can use the normal uniform unless you can't hold the transformation, at which point your own tail should cover your privates..." Hermione said, nodding.

"Bummer. I was looking forward to designing a uniform for you, Harry," Dumbledore said, clear disappointment in his voice. He even looked like someone had kicked his puppy.

"Well... I can always model a new uniform for you, sir..." Harry offered, trying to cheer him up.

It worked. "Great! Just tell me when you're ready!"

Harry blinked. "What have I gotten myself into?"

"This is going to be one hectic year..." Hermione muttered. "I wonder if I can convince Sirius to help me smuggle a few crates of firewhiskey."

* * *

If you know Monster Girl Quest, then you know what I'm writing here. And yes, Harry has Alipheese the Sixteenth's body and all of her powers.

For those who don't, well... knowledge of it isn't really necessary.

This is not a serious fic, if you couldn't tell. There also won't be any lemons, though it might get pretty close when Harry becomes hungry. You'll learn why soon enough.


	2. The Sledgehammer of Subtlety

**Monster Lord**

**Chapter 1: The Sledgehammer of Subtlety  
**

* * *

Summary: Diagon Alley Shenanigans. Also, turns out that having a legendary monster's form is not the best way to make friends.

* * *

Harry was smiling. "You know, it's funny, but I had assumed that this," he said, gesturing to his chest, where only a white button up shirt that had once belonged to Sirius was covering the pair of knockers on her chest. The buttons had been reinforced with magic, so there was no risk of them snapping off and shooting someone's eye out. The shirt strained enough to detail the contours of Harry's breasts, though, and it had more than one head turning his way. Harry had stopped talking to admire the curve of his breasts for a minute. Then, he began speaking again. "Would at least get someone to call me out for indecency."

Dumbledore had helpfully made the old pants that Harry had taken from Dudley, now better suited to his height (Harry found it funny that he was taller as a woman than as a man), into a pair of trousers that, while not tight enough that they were uncomfortable to walk in, were still showing off Harry's newly gained feminine figure.

"The Wizarding World seems to be less sexist than you'd think at first glance. It makes sense, I guess, since magic pretty much equalized the genders. No point in being physically stronger or more prone to aggression if you're not going to fight using your physical attributes and you rely more on your brain for combat than your arms, which aggression would hinder. This actually kind of explains why very old wizarding families produce such effeminate men, now that I think about it... It's not like they need to be 'manly'..." Hermione rambled, "or at least, it's a very bare bones approximation of what an explanation for this phenomenom could be."

"You lost me at 'The'," Harry admitted shamelessly, before crossing his arms and pouting, tapping his foot against the hard ground that was the paved street of Diagon Alley beneath his feet. "Where's Ron? He said he'd be here!"

"I'm here, geez!" Ron yelled, as he ran up to them. "It's just, mum thought this might be a great opportunity to get all our shopping done early this year, and it took me a while to get away! Also, Fred and George wanted to see you try on underwear, Harry."

Harry frowned. "They know I'm still a guy, even though I might not look it, right?"

"They're probably good at dissociating your extremely hot body from Harry Potter, and I didnt know I knew that word," Ron said, smiling as Hermione beamed at him for sounding vaguely intelligent. "To be fair, you look nothing like what you used to look like. If you looked like a female Harry, maybe that would be harder..."

"And I've seen myself in a mirror. I am drop dead gorgeous," Harry said, nodding to Ron, "well if they're okay with that, sure, I don't mind."

Hermione frowned. "You know, you're a little too okay with showing off your body, Harry. You sure you're okay?"

"Yes. I'm trying not to think too hard about this. At least I won't have to go back to Durzkaban. I no longer share blood with Petunia," Harry said. "That, and I'm pretty sure I could punch Voldemort so hard his head would explode, right now, so I wouldn't need that defense anyway."

"How tough are you now, Harry?" Ron asked. "I mean, did you get to test that?"

"We didn't get to check," admitted the Lamia, frowning slightly. "But I'm guessing I'm very tough. I'm walking barefoot and the ground is getting damaged beneath my feet instead of the other way around..."

"Why are you barefoot, anyway?" Hermione asked.

"We didn't have any shoes that fit, and Dumbledore insisted on high heels. I'm not planning on wearing anything other than shoes I can walk in without tripping. Anyway, we should really get on with the shopping. I really want to see what I look like in lingerie," Harry said, seeing both Ron and Hermione looking at him with expressions of confusion. "What? Aren't I allowed to want to see myself looking good?"

Hermione sighed. "Harry, you really do need to get used to the fact that it's your body..."

"And I should be comfortable with it, right? Surprisingly, I am. Maybe it's a side effect of the ritual, but I'm feeling a lot more comfortable in this body than I did on my own. Like I had always been wearing a heavy coat and then suddenly I removed it," explained the Lamia, gesturing to his friends as he turned around to walk into Diagon Alley, silver hair swaying side to side as he walked with a sway to his hips that only a woman who had been taught to walk as one would be able to pull off.

Hermione fronwed. "It might have altered you more than we thought, Harry."

"Yeah... Sorry to say it, Mate, but you even walk like a girl, and as much as I like staring at that bum when you walk, I still remember that it's you under it. Now that the novelty has passed, it's just kind of creepy," Ron admitted.

"I do?" Harry asked, frowning for a second before he shook his head and turned around, crossing his arms under his plentiful chest. "Let's just get this over with. Stop trying to make me dwell on this, okay? I'm trying to cope with it as best as I can, and you're not making it any easier," he finished, sighing.

"Pretending there isn't a problem won't help, Harry," Hermione said, firmly.

"Though the problem won't be solved by just chatting here. Let's just get this shopping thing over with," Ron said.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Harry?" Hermione asked, approaching Harry and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We can postpone it, you know? Transfigure clothes for you to wear for the time being and see what we'll do to get you an uniform later. Maybe we can make you recover your appearance, at least as an illusion..."

Harry shook his head. "I've had enough of sitting around and doing nothing. I've been doing pretty much that every year, wanting for the problems and answers to come to me instead..."

"You haven't. You were young and inexperienced, hell, you still are, mate!" Ron countered. "We went into the Forbidden Forest, Harry! We pursued a dangerous escaped convict and, well, there's the whole mess with the Chamber of Secrets and going after Quirrel in first year, too."

Harry looked at the ground for a second. "Okay, I won't try to force myself to adapt this fast," he said, finally, and took a deep breath. "I still want to get some clothes that fit me better, though..."

Hermione smiled. "We can go to muggle London. Nobody'll know. That, and our galleons are worth much more in muggle money than most people think."

"Sounds good to me. I've never seen the muggle side. Should be fun," Ron admitted with a grin.

"It's a plan, then. Let's go!"

And so the Golden Trio went to the Leaky Cauldron to make the trip into Muggle London. They wouldn't have to do this, had they used the same method of travel they used to get into Diagon Alley in the first place, but Dumbledore had dropped them off there with side along apparation and then returned to Hogwarts, so they didn't have the luxury of taking that route again, since none of them knew how to apparate and Harry wasn't certain if he even could do it anymore.

* * *

"I don't know why, but I have the weirdest craving for fox meat right now... Didn't even know it was edible..." Harry said, as they walked into a muggle restaurant.

Ron had won the Rock Paper Scissors competition to see where they'd go first, and thus they'd settled on visiting a restaurant. Ron was new to muggle food, even though magical food wasn't all that different. At least, it was a different taste due to how it was prepared.

Harry also purposefully lost the 'draw the short straw' match entirely so he could be the one to pay without Ron throwing a hissy fit about it. The Weasleys, ALL of them, hated being pitied or given charity with a passion unrivalled, and thus Harry felt it more prudent to provide a way for Ron to think that he wasn't receiving charity. And he really wasn't, Harry paid for the Golden Trio's meal entirely because he wanted to. He liked being nice to his friends, particularly now that he could treat them to something, after everything they'd done for him, this was small potatoes.

At least he hadn't needed to fall on Plan B, that was distracting Ron by unbuttoning his shirt. That would've distracted him well enough, and Harry didn't much care for showing off his chest, but it made people uncomfortable when he did.

Which was part of why it was so fun, even if it made Hermione mad. Up until recently, Harry had been topless with no issue, when he used to weed Petunia's garden, or clean the neighbors' pools so Dudley could have pocket money, or did random repairs of plumbing or furniture when needed. Harry had turned into a bit of a handyman by virtue of having nothing else to do during the summers and his chores list lessening considerably when he wasn't in the house. That and the variance of such tasks helped stop the monotony from rotting his brain.

By the end of the, mostly silent, meal, Hermione was looking at Harry and gaping. "Harry... how are you eating so much?"

Hearing this, Harry blinked. "What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

"Mate... you just ate twice what I ate!" Ron said, incredulous.

Harry looked down, past the valley of his breasts, and noticed roughly a dozen piled plates, all nearly licked clean. "... So I did. And I'm still hungry... I want something sweet, though..."

"You can't seriously still be hungry. Honestly, it's a wonder your stomach isn't bulging and distended! Where do you put it away?" Hermione asked, more than slightly jealous. For all that it was an issue, Harry's female body had a killer figure that made Hermione quite envious. Were it not for the blue skin and the snake tail that were so obvious when Harry wasn't actively disguising himself, it might make her think twice about performing the ritual on herself.

Then again, she'd have to find a powerful wizard on the same order of magnitude as Harry to pull that off, and she was quite sure that neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort, the only two people that powerful she knew, would be willing to help her.

"I think even the waitress was jealous after she saw you eating. Hell, I'm jealous, and I'm thin despite being lazy and a big eater!" Ron stated. "At least I run around a lot trying to get to class in time..."

Harry shrugged. "I want dessert now. Maybe I'm just making up for what I consumed in order to get this body... Then again, my lamia body is much larger than this... Maybe most of it goes to my tail?"

"It's possible. Anyway, what do you want for dessert? I'll call the waitress over..."

"I'll get one of everything!" Harry said, smiling happily.

Ron blinked, then looked somewhat sad. "I wish you'd been born like this, Mate, 'cause I'd be in love with you right then and there. Finally, a girl after my own heart!"

Harry laughed.

Once their desserts were brought over, Harry once again displayed a bottomless pit in place of a stomach... and eventually wound up finishing off everything. Ultimately, he was left with a small cup of coffee with a big helping of cream on top, as well as the honey that had been over something he'd eaten, but was now all over his face.

Using his left pointer finger, Harry scooped up the honey on his cheeks, and with the right pointer finger, he removed a bit of the cream from the cup of coffee, putting both in his mouth and smiling in delight at the overly sweet taste of the combination. "Delicious!" he said, after a few seconds of simply smiling widely.

Ron was red in the face and pointedly looking away, though he displayed impressive concentration by continuing to devour the sundae he'd ordered (muggle ice cream was very different from magical ice cream, he'd decided), while Hermione held a hand to her nose, rubbing the space between her eyes, her cheeks dusted red as much as her Weasley friend. "Harry... never, ever do that again. Okay?"

Harry pouted. "But I haven't decided which I like better..." he said, before huffing and going back to the coffee, drinking it down in a few short gulps.

Most of the cream was on his upper lip immediately afterwards.

So a long and strangely pointed tongue came from his mouth to slowly, but surely, wipe it off, before putting it in his mouth where it belonged.

Ron Weasley almost trembled in place. "Mate. Don't do that. It makes me think of how unfair the world is." Of course, he was oblivious to the fact that his consternation was amusing Harry immensely, and that it also had several of the restaurant's patrons wishing him a horrible death. To be, after all, in the presence of a bodacious babe who dressed and ate so provocatively, and not enjoy it in the least? That was just blasphemy.

* * *

"So, what's next?" Harry asked.

Ron was sulking about the fact that they'd had to go to Gringotts to restock on muggle money, and he'd had to deal with the Goblins being extremely condescendent to him for not holding a vault worth mentioning. He wondered why Harry had actually gone to chat with a goblin in his room...

* * *

Harry frowned as he saw every single goblin flinch the very moment he crossed the threshold of Gringotts' gates. All at once, they turned their heads and he saw it, clear as day. Fear. They were as scared of him as Kreacher had been. He was the Monster Lord, and at this moment was when he noticed this most of all. He frowned, knowing that this further killed his dream of a normal life... but he knew, when he had accepted Hermione's idea, that he'd forfeit a normal life forever, success or failure. Still, he had a plan B, which he'd gotten into the habit of making ever since he'd been caught without a plan at the graveyard.

He could always just retire and put his location under Fidelius after the mess with Lord Voldemort was over.

So, in resignation, Harry found pride. He was the Boy Who Lived. He was the Monster Lord. He would not just bow down his head and surrender himself in shame. He'd face his fate with dignity, and earn his chance to live a normal life. Hence, he strode ahead of Ron and Hermione into Gringotts, golden eyes scanning the crowd as he did, to see more than one head turned at his appearance, but most returning to business after noting the strange new arrival's mild weirdness.

Most people who were in Gringotts were in for business, and while there were a young fool or two too caught up in staring at Harry's chest or ass, there were more who were too engrossed in their business to watch. The goblins recovered quickly and those that were currently busied returned to their tasks, but the ones that were free were nervously fidgeting and clearly preparing for the worst, should it come to pass.

"It's the Monster Lord," one whispered from across the room, rubbing his hands against each other. "But she was supposed to be dead! Her line extinguished forever!"

Harry ignored his ability to pick up such a distant conversation, which was odd, considering he wasn't focusing on it, and he definitely needed to focus on any other conversation in Gringotts' main hall to discern the words spoken, and strode to a free bank teller.

"M-M-M-Monster L-Lord!" the goblin said, startled.

"Goblin," Harry said, as if acknowledging the lowly creature's presence.

"P-Please, d-do m-meet o-our manager, y-your highness!" the goblin pleaded. "One such a-as yours-self sh-shouldn't deal w-with rabble, yes?"

Harry almost scoffed at the ridiculous deference he was paid, but then turned to his friends behind him and flashed them a grin, showing just how much he was enjoying his interaction with the goblins. When they'd been horribly surly and mean to just about everyone who came into their bank, they always thought themselves high and mighty, yet look at them now! Cowering before his presence!

"Hermione. Ron. Would you mind getting a few hundred... maybe a few thousand... pounds from this vault?" Harry asked, handing Hermione his vault key. "It seems I have pressing business..."

The bushy haired witch nodded, and moved on to a line, while Harry turned to the goblin once more, and it seemed to desperately want to void its bowels...

* * *

Ron wondered what had happened after they separated. For a moment, it'd seemed as if every goblin on Gringotts had spontaneously blanched...

So he asked.

* * *

Harry looked around, and sighed for a moment before his lower body morphed into that of a snake, leaving a rust red tail with a very dark orange for its underside in place of the long and shapely legs he'd had before.

"You truly are the Monster Lord, your highness! You've come back to us!" a goblin came running at him, screaming. The goblin launched itself and landed against Harry's tail, wrapping its limbs around the scaled appendage.

"P-Pardon his insolence, please!" the goblin that had brought him deeper into Gringotts said, trying to pry the other goblin off Harry's tail.

Harry laughed, in response. "I shall forgive you, this once, but do really let go of my tail. I don't want to crush you as I move," he said, smiling warmly at the goblin.

It fainted.

Harry blinked. "I thought I'd gotten the mystic eyes mostly under control... Regardless, I do believe you thought I had to speak with someone here?"

"Y-Yes!"

"Very well, then. Take me to your director," Harry said.

The goblin seemed to be debating whether or not to open its mouth, until it seemed to finally decide to do it. "Director Ragnok would be honored, your highness, but perhaps you wish to speak with the Goblin King Gnarl?"

"You have a king?" Harry asked, truly confused. "I thought your royal family had been exterminated in the rebellions of 1416..." Surprisingly, Binns worked very well as a teaching aid for the Goblin Wars. Turns out, having people talk to you in your sleep can sometimes help. Or at least, it did for Harry when he was half-awake and still listening.

"The entire family was exterminated in 1416, yes, but one of your servants, one of the Artiste family, raised our Eternal King Gnarl, and since then, he has lead the goblins of Britain. We do not wish for outsiders to know that our king is an undead. Holy Wars have been declared over less, and we were in no position to repel an attack by the church, were they to learn of it. Ever since the bank was created, there has been no need for the king to be a public figure, either."

"I see," Harry said, nodding approvingly, pretending he knew who the 'Artiste' family were. "Very well then, I shall speak with your King."

"W-We've been very anxiously waiting for your next rise, my queen! That we have!"

Harry laughed. "Oh, so you have. Perhaps, this act would be more convincing, weren't your reactions of unbridled fear and apprehension."

"P-P-Please unders-stand, my queen! Your presence in our haven is a grim reminder of the times of the Sacred Wars!"

Harry smiled at the Goblin's panic. He found it odd that he was being this sadistic, but then again, he was just playing around, he didn't hold any ill will to the goblins or their race, and he was certainly not offended at their wishing for the Monster Lord to remain in legend. "I shall forgive, but not forget, goblin."

The tunnels became dark and dreary, and the temperature ever hotter and more annoying, as the unlikely duo of lamia and goblin went to their destination deep within the bowels of Gringotts bank in silence, one terrified, the other vaguely amused. Harry thought that, despite the fact that he was even now forced to keep his mind off the fact that his chest would likely need proper support for him to avoid back pains, there were some upsides to being the Monster Lord.

* * *

"And what happened when you met the King?" Ron asked, eagerly wishing to know the rest of the story.

Harry smiled and then shook his head. "You'll have to wait. It's Hermione's pick now!"

The bookworm smiled, and they already knew what their next stop would be.


	3. Friendship is Money

**Monster Lord**

**Chapter 2: Friendship is Money  
**

* * *

Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione continue on the shopping trip and Harry makes some things clear.

* * *

"You know, I've been wondering, why does nobody notice you're barefoot, Harry?" Ron asked, feeling a little confused as people just ignored the fact that Harry was not only walking barefoot, but also making no effort to hide it.

"People aren't looking at my feet," Harry said, gesturing towards his chest.

"Maybe we should get you some shoes before we go to the bookstore? Someone is bound to notice..." Hermione asked, frowning slightly at the idea of being delayed from visiting a bookstore, something she hadn't done yet this summer.

"Even if they do, what are they going to do about it?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"... Maybe kick us out of the bookstore?" Hermione asked, deadpan.

Harry smiled, then looked Hermione squarely in the eye. "Hermione, do be a dear and punch Ron in the face," he ordered, and as if a puppet moved by an expert puppeteer, she moved to do exactly that, only to stop when Harry's hand shot in a blur to stop her from completing her attack.

Hermione blushed. "Oh, right, Mystic Eyes," she said, clearly embarrassed.

"You know, that's just unfair, if you can just control the people you look at..." Ron muttered.

"Well, I do need to hold eye contact for a second and if she'd wanted to break it, she probably could have," Harry said. "Plus, it seems the slightest outside stimulus breaks the compulsion. I broke the one on Remus by slapping him lightly and Hermione got hers broken when her fist hit my palm," he said.

"Anyway, we're on muggle London, and I want to see what it's like!" Ron said, ending the conversation and beginning to walk, causing both of the females, both the natural and the unnatural one, to follow him for a few seconds before he remembered he had no idea where they were going, and then Hermione took the lead once more.

They could take a cab, but that would defeat the point of walking around so both Harry and Ron could come to know muggle London. While it was nothing that Hermione would call amazing, to her, to them it was clearly very new and nice. Why travel abroad when you can get the same effect by visiting a domestic city?

"You know, this is actually all new to me. I've been through here on dad's anglia, but I never thought about what I was looking out the window at," Ron admitted, as his eyes trailed from store to store, following everything that caught his eye.

"This is nothing like Diagon Alley, either," Harry said, nodding and smiling in clear approval of the sights. "It's got so many more shops, and they all sell so many different things..."

"There's much more people with much more varied tastes," Hermione lectured. "Diagon Alley caters to a much more limited clientele, both in terms of tastes and amount, which means that very often, so the stores don't have that much variation between them, and differences ultimately come down to prices and personal preference rather than selection or quality. Here, there's many different things and most stores have a different selection, even if they sell the same general item, and the quality can also vary wildly. This is because of the competition. Since Madam Malkin's is the only store where you can get your school robes, she doesn't really have to try very hard or innovate to keep her clientele, while if you do that here, you'll quickly lose your clientele and go broke. This prevents stagnation and compliments progress."

Harry and Ron were both stunned at the length of the explanation and its contents. "You know, I'd never thought too deeply about it, but it makes total sense," Ron agreed. "I mean, Ollivander's is the only wandmaking store in Diagon Alley and he's sold the same kind of wands since forever. Of course he doesn't have to improve or change anything, it's not like there's anyone else who would catch our attention and have us buy our wands there instead..."

Hermione beamed as Ron's braingears worked, showing the innate intelligence that allowed him to have decent enough grades to make prefect. "That's it exactly, Ron!" she said, nodding appreciatively. "Only now has the Wizarding World, at least in Britain, started to face the capitalist system. And you can thank Fred and George for that, since they're the only store I know besides bookstores and antique stores, both of which sell items that are limited in quantity, who are trying to compete with someone else."

"Since they're trying to start their own business that would compete with Zonko's, right?" asked Ron, looking as if he'd just hit the jackpot on the slots.

"Exactly," Hermione confirmed, smiling at him.

"That makes sense," Harry said, nodding to himself. "Pretty much the fastest advancement in industry the wizarding world has is racing broom development, and it makes perfect sense. They're some of the very few companies that face competition."

Hermione looked as if she'd just reached Nirvana. It was very rare for her to see Ron and Harry engage their brains, let alone for such an extended period of time and in such an important subject, something that would impact their future so much, like the basic principles of a capitalist system.

"You know, I'd been thinking about what to do after this whole mess with Voldemort was over, and I'd just been thinking I'd like to maybe buy a few properties with my money and rent them out, live from that," Harry admitted. "I'd thought about trying to make my presence as... ubi... what's the word I'm looking for?" he asked, looking at Hermione.

"Ubiquituous," Hermione stated. "But you'd be wrong in using that," she said, shaking her head. "I'd suggest just going with 'hidden', in this regard, since it's closer to what you want to achieve, if I'm not mistaken. You just want to avoid the masses, don't you?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Harry admitted. "Though I admit this is getting harder. At least nobody'll recognize me as Harry Potter in Diagon Alley," he said, shrugging. "For a while. Then they'll talk. I'm already dreading what the prophet's gonna say about this..."

"You shouldn't care, Harry," Ron said, imitating Harry's shrug from before. "It's not like they're not already smearing y- I shouldn't have said that," Ron said, realizing he'd had a Hagrid moment.

"... What?" asked the confused Harry.

"It's nothing, just the Prophet being the Prophet and disbelieving you and Dumbledore about Voldemort's return, nothing you should worry about," Hermione reasoned, shaking her head. "Anyway, let's get a move on! I want to see if there's anything interesting at my favorite bookstore here in London!"

Seeing as Harry was quickly distracted by Hermione, Ron breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

Hermione was thoroughly disapppointed by their visit to two bookstores, but the third time was indeed the charm, and she'd actually managed to have a very long chat with the clerk about some recommendations for leisure reading to do during the extent of the school year. She explained that they'd be in a boarding school most of the year and she needed reading for the whole year, which led to the clerk directing Hermione to several long novels that were more like doorstoppers.

She got stuff from all genres and many different authors, but Harry had stopped paying any attention after they'd gotten started with discussing the merits of someone named Jane Austen or something like that, he hadn't heard quite well as he'd already been drifting off, instead wandering the bookstore for an hour until Hermione, who looked very satisfied and happy with herself, announced that she was done.

Ron had actually started reading a picture book while they waited, finding amusement in the novelty provided by the literature for young children, and then being dazzled by the existence of pop up books. Knowing who his father was, though, his occassional bouts of fascination with muggle culture would be easily explained.

At least he wasn't as bad as his father, who'd probably have taken the pop up book apart to learn how they'd managed to do something like that without any form of magic.

"It's not very difficult, but it's beyond me," Harry admitted. "One of my classmates back when I was at muggle school once explained how they were made, and showed off one he'd made himself," Harry admitted. Of course, he didn't mention how he'd had to look from a safe distance, as he hadn't been particularly liked back at school, and how he hadn't learned when it'd been explained because he'd been busy on one corner of the room standing like a wallflower, due to being blamed for something Dudley'd done.

They didn't quite need to know that.

"What was it?" Ron asked.

"It was a man," Harry said. "With a very, very big prick," he added. "When you opened it, the penis would suddenly pop out," he explained.

"That sounds wicked... Fred and George'll be interested in doing something similar with magic..." Ron admitted, smiling wickedly as he did.

Harry smiled.

"Well... I've just got to pay and we'll be done," Hermione said. "I'll come to pick up the books I bought with my father later, since carrying all those books the whole day would suck," she admitted, before moving to the purse she'd brought with herself to look for the money to pay.

"That's more money spent on books than what I spend on ALL my school supplies," Ron noted. Admittedly, he got most of his supplies second, often third hand, so it's not like he spent much, but he made the calculations for what first hand supplies would've costed and guessed Hermione had still spent more on books than she would on everything else she'd need for this year.

"It's also more than I'm carrying right now, but that's okay, I'll pay half now and half later," she said, shaking her head. "I just hope he accepts my deal..."

"Give me a minute, Hermione, there's something I've been wanting to try for a while," Harry said with a grin, as he unbuttoned the top buttons of Sirius' shirt, leaving his cleavage mildly exposed. Wow that's one weird sentence I never thought I'd write.

Hermione looked at him oddly for a few seconds, but then raised an eyebrow as Harry moved over to where the definitely male clerk of the bookstore was busy making certain he'd gotten everything about Hermione's big purchase correct. It was, after all, a big deal to buy so many books at once and he could just see the owner praising him for managing such a big sale in one day, that wasn't school related.

"Hello," Harry greeted, his lips forming into a small, sultry smile, one arm on the counter and another on his tattooed left cheek. His golden eyes made a show of looking the clerk, a scrawny looking punk that was as nondescript as you can possibly get, bland and forgettable at best, up and down twice.

"H-H-Hello," the boy, because it was clearly a boy and not a man, stammered back, as Harry leaned forward over the counter, resting his plentiful chest on his arm. "W-What can I h-help y-you with, miss?"

"Oh, me?" Harry asked, smiling. "Not much, I am afriad. I am not much of a reader, you see. I dare say I prefer to move. Why, yes, I do prefer to... _exercise_," he purred, leaning a bit further down, making sure the boy got a particularly good view of what lay restrained beneath his shirt, "but my friend, oh, you can help her, for certain. She is a delightful friend, for sure, but she is also a bit of a bookworm, wouldn't you agree?"

"Y-Y-Yes! S-She reads a l-lot!" the boy stammered an agreement, coloring from the tips of his toes to the very root of his hair.

Harry could practically smell the arousal in the air, and wondered how tight the boy's underwear had become recently. "That she does, indeed," he agreed, leaning back and crossing his arms under his chest, making sure to move fast enough that his breasts jiggled a little. He almost broke his composure as the boy's eyes trailed their every movement. Inside, Harry was both mortified and finding this more hilarious by the minute. "But of course, I do find a knowledgeable person just so... _irresistible_," he purred once more.

"Y-You d-do, m-miss?" the boy stammered, clearly reaching heaven as he thought of the extremely hot girl who was clearly hitting on him.

"Ah, yes. What can I say? There's just something about the brainy types..." the boy was on the border of fainting with an expression of joy in his face, and Harry wondered whether to press further or not. "... maybe it's the... _taste_," Harry finished with another purr, licking his lips, and the boy metaphorically melted into a puddle of goo with a goofy smile. "Unfortunately, my friend didn't bring enough money to pay for all her purchases, and it'd be just a damned shame if we had to walk out without them, wouldn't you agree?"

The boy seemed to be dragged back to Earth suddenly, and he scrambled to pick himself up from his fantasy. "Eerr... I... I can't-"

"Which is why I will be paying in her stead," said Harry, with a wide smile. "So, if you'd please?"

Laughing internally, Harry pulled out his wallet from one of his pants' pockets. Fortunately, despite being more form fitting, magic had a great way of making pockets be way deeper than they might seem at first glance. Same with wallets. Oh, how he loved size expansion charms.

Later, as Hermione led them out of the bookstore, she looked at Harry. "Did you have fun?" she asked, glaring at him.

"It was really, really funny," Harry admitted, smiling widely.

"You should have a little more respect for yourself, Harry, your body isn't just an object to be used like that..." she said, frowning. "And you didn't have to pay for me, either! I'm perfectly capable of handling my budget-"

"And I've got lots upon lots of money I'll never use on myself," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "So let me spend it on you instead."

Hermione sighed. "You're not being responsible with your money, Harry. If you keep spilling it like that, it's not going to last long..."

"I'm not looking for it to last long, Hermione. What's money, if you don't use it on what makes you happy? I don't know if either of you two have realized, but I like seeing you two happy, and if I can make you happy by spending a little money, then why can't I do just that? It's not pity or charity, I do it because doing it makes me feel good," explained Harry, sternly, closing his eyes for a moment and then opening them, fixing a hard stare on Ron as he finished his rant.

"Still..." Ron began, trying to protest.

"You've both given me something much more valuable than all the money in the world. Let me repay you at least with this," Harry continued, his tone calm and solemn.

"Harry..." Hermione trailed off.

"You're both the family I wish I'd had..."

Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry, though her head only came up to Harry's breasts with his newfound height, and she pressed herself against her friend. "Thank you..." she whispered. "You and Ron were my first friends... and if I had siblings, I wish they were like you guys..." she added, feeling Harry's arms wrap around her shoulders, pressing her closer to him.

"You're my best mates," Ron said, frowning and looking at the ground. "You guys accepted me even after I was a total git to both of you. I was a moron a lot of times..."

"Yes, you were," Hermione said, letting go of Harry and smiling warmly at him. "But that's okay, we know you're kind of stupid at times, and we wouldn't want you any other way."

"We've all been idiots at some point, Ron," Harry said. "But the fact that we still came back together in the end... That's what's important," he said. "You were with me when I needed you, and I'll be there with you when you need me, both of you," he said. "Whether we're hunting an old acromantula in the forest or trying to figure out how to beat a dragon..."

Ron snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if you could beat up a dragon with your bare hands these days, Harry," he admitted.

"Well, being the Monster Lord does have its advantages," Harry admitted, grinning. "Anyway..."

The streets of London were not a place for public displays of affection of this sort, and it showed as people, some quite rudely, stopped to stare at them in indignation. Harry almost laughed, before he regained his senses and turned back to Hermione.

"Lead the way, Hermione! We should probably get underwear first..."

"Let's go to a lingerie store, then," she said. "This is bound to be either incredibly embarrassing, or utterly hilarious, and I'm not betting on the latter," she said, a small smile on her face.

"There's an entire store centered around selling knickers!?" Ron asked, stunned by the revelation.

"Ron, there's an entire industry centered around making female underwear," Harry said, smiling at Ron's flabbergasted expression.

"Wow. Just... just wow," Ron said, trying to come to grips with the wonders of the muggle world. "At least I understand Dad a little better... Muggles really are amazing..."

"And we're just getting started on this tour! After we get done with clothes, I want to get some videogames! Dudley used to own all sorts of consoles, but they didn't last long since he'd smash them to pieces the first time he got stuck on any game," Harry spoke, remembering fond memories of the very few times Dudley ever got scolded. Game consoles weren't cheap, after all.

"I don't know... I've never really seen the appeal, myself," Hermione said, shrugging. "And we're not going to be able to use them at Hogwarts..."

"Bummer," Harry said, somewhat dejectedly. "Why must your logic rain on my parades, Hermione?" he asked, mock-hurt.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron blinked. "What's a game con...soul? And a vidya game? Does this have to do with elektriksity?" he asked.

"It'd be better to just show you," Harry said. "Hermione, do you know if there's an arcade nearby? I've never been to one, personally, but Dudley used to go with his friends, a lot..."

"I think I do. I'm not from here, but mum and dad have their practice here, and I used to come along a lot before Hogwarts..." Hermione said, frowning. "Worst comes to worst, we just ask. Anyway, I do know a lingerie store nearby..." she said, looking at Ron for a second.

"What?" he asked.

Harry smirked, as Ron began to turn red as his brain clicked. Harry winked at him.

"Fred and George are gonna be jealous," Ron said with a smile. "Even if this still creeps me out."

Harry and Hermione laughed.


	4. Ron Weasley and the Envious Masses

**Monster Lord**

**Chapter 3: Ron Weasley and The Envious Masses  
**

* * *

Summary: Ron Weasley's having the time of his life, and he's never felt this way before. Harry finds it mildly amusing and Hermione is surrounded by idiots and perverts.

* * *

Harry had shoes now.

Simple brown penny loafers that were surprisingly comfortable despite not looking like it in the least. Hermione mentioned that it was likely because Harry's skin was so much tougher than the leather of the loafers that he didn't suffer from having his feet compressed while they were new.

Getting those shoes hadn't been a problem, and for the time being, Harry was wearing simply socks. Hermione had, however, brought up the possibility of wearing stockings. And Harry's only thought of those was of cartoonish images of thieves wearing them on their heads while assaulting a bank wielding really fake looking machineguns. Then Hermione brought up tights. Harry thought about going for the manliest form of tights, the leather ones a proper biker wears.

Or at least, he thought they did. He hadn't seen a real biker, ever, and the only exposure he had to the subculture was watching a movie while mopping the Dursleys' floors (that's the only way Harry ever got to watch TV, while Dudley had become enslaved to the 'dumb' box).

"Okay, we'll worry about getting you a proper set of shoes later, and yes, you do need different shoes for every occassion Harry," Hermione began, lecturing her gender changed friend as she led them through to where she knew a lingerie store was. It wasn't too big, but her mother had spoken fondly of it, and Hermione guessed that not going for a big store might be for the best, as she didn't want people to look at Harry while he was trying on underwear.

He had to be massively embarrassed already, and she didn't want to add to it.

"Really?" Harry asked. "I thought that was just a stereotype."

"Ginny and my mom only have like two or three pairs each, like everyone else in my house," Ron commented.

"Yes, well, it mostly is," Hermione confirmed. "And I'd imagine your mother doesn't go to a lot of parties or functions in which she needs to look her best, which Harry would have to... in the future, if not now. I don't think you're going to grow more, Harry, so we might as well get it over with," Hermione said. "Really, I wonder how it is that most men seem to just ignore the social norms and customs they, unconsciously apparently, adhere to. While the stereotype is usually female, men have to wear different shoes to different occassions, too, though, admittedly, not to the same extent women do. You don't wear sneakers to a high class party, do you?"

"I don't go to high class parties," they chorused.

Hermione sighed and stopped, turning around and giving them a long suffering face. "It was a rhetorical question," she said, crossing her arms.

"And we gave you a rhetorical answer," Ron replied, flippantly.

"That's not- You don't even know what- Do you just repeat words you hear randomly just to try and sound smarter?" Hermione asked, frustrated with her friends.

"Now you're just being transcendent," Harry said, cheekily.

"... You're just doing it to annoy me, aren't you?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, no. We're doing it for the sake of comedy," Ron said, nodding at her.

Hermione took a deep breath and a moment to relax. "Oh, you're just like those people who quote comedians who are actually funny in a desperate attempt to try and be funny," she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "You know, you're not actually being funny if you do that. You're just reminding people of something that actually is funny."

Ron frowned. "If it makes people laugh, what does it matter, Hermione?"

"... I guess you're right," she admitted, "there isn't that much difference in the end. You're just trying to make people laugh, right?" she asked.

"That's the idea," Harry said, nodding. "In this case, we're making ourselves laugh at your expense. If it makes you feel any better, we're perfectly aware that you don't find it funny. It's just that your flustered face is adorable from this perspective."

Ron nodded. "Looked down upon from above, blushing girls are adorable," he said, gesturing to the difference in height that was between him and Hermione, as well as how Harry had gone from being actually shorter than Hermione to a bit taller than Ron.

"You do know I could punch both of you where the sun doesn't shine, don't you?" Hermione threatened, cracking her knuckles. "And I assure you, Harry, that it hurts just as much as you'd think for women too. Just because it's not protruding out doesn't mean we don't also have a convenient combination of nervous cells there."

"Yeah, shutting up now," Harry said.

"I said nothing," Ron added.

"Good boys," Hermione said with a bright smile. "Now, come on, this is taking forever!"

* * *

Ron Weasley was in heaven.

His eyes were glued to the incredibly shapely form of his once male best friend as he turned around and showed the redhead his back.

His?

No. Not 'his'.

Hers. And oh, oh my god, was it a delicious 'her'.

This was driving the point home better than any speech. Harry James Potter had a female body, and it was simply out of this world. It was as if somebody had gone out of their way to make him the very image of beauty, as if preparing a trap and using the female form as the lure. At the back of Ron's head, the thought of the Monster Lord raised itself. He didn't know the stories very well, they were so old that there weren't very many surviving accounts of it, and the only one he knew of was in Hermione's possession currently.

The Monster Lord's name was enough to make Ron think about the possibility... why would something this insanely strong need such a body?

However, he banished such thoughts when Harry turned around and Hermione put a hand on her chin as she began to analyze how the nearly transparent black, lacy and oh so incredibly small piece of fabric clung to that delicious looking bum.

It was such a goddamned shame that beneath that gorgeous body beat the heart of Ron's best mate, who would surely punch him for it, but Ron was absolutely certain now that Harry was a girl, and that Ron was okay with that.

"What do you think, Ron?" Harry asked. "Hermione says I'm going too far with it, but hey, if I've got the body to pull it off..."

Ron was busy drooling all over himself.

"I think he approves, honey," said the saleslady who had given Harry that little piece of fabric that was supposed to be a pair of panties. "You know, I'm surprised. Girls your age rarely work up the guts to give this kind of show to their boyfriends," she said, nodding. "Not that I've got anything against teen sex, mind you, just, you know, be safe about it and all that," she continued.

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend. Just my best male friend," Harry replied, waving his hand. "I thought it'd be funny to bring him along."

"Well, the faces he's making are funny, sure. Is he so sheltered he's never seen a nearly naked girl before?" the saleslady asked.

"Oh, no, he's seen these," Harry said, lifting the breasts that were barely held back by the bra on his chest, which was clearly designed more to look good than provide proper support, "plenty of times before. I went through, I guess you could say, a growth spurt one day, and had to walk around my house naked because I didn't have anything that fit me right. He and his family are currently living in my home for the summer while theirs is getting refurbished," Harry explained, absent mindedly. He was enjoying the talk with a saleslady who had no idea who he was and was just being friendly. Plus, he was talking about Ron and not himself, so it was a win win scenario.

"Oh! That's quite... bold of you," the woman said. "Isn't he a bit young, though? He looks... sixteen, maybe?" the saleslady asked.

"Is he? I'd never thought about it..."

Ron considered the saleslady for a second. While reasonably pretty, most likely hired for her good looks, she was just nothing compared to the unreal, impossible image of beauty that was clearly designed that way.

"I'm so jealous of you, though. Your body's just amazing! What's your secret?" the saleslady continued.

"Secret?" Harry mused for a second. "I engaged in a pagan ritual to turn myself from a man into this because there's a lunatic stalking me," Harry said. "These tattoos," he added, gesturing to the left side of his body, which still had the runic writings Hermione had drawn on him, "were part of it."

The saleslady laughed openly, while Hermione gaped.

Then she smirked.

Of course, there's no better lie than the truth.

"Anyway, Harry, I've got some more stuff for you to try on! You know, playing dress up with you is actually much more fun than I thought it'd be," Hermione admitted, sheepishly.

Harry smiled. "Thank you for helping me, I'm still totally lost at this," he began, before turning around to face his first friend. "Now, Ron, we're going to take a while, so you can go out and eat something. Here's some money," Harry said, and when Ron was about to protest, Harry raised one eyebrow and silently reminded him that Ron was carrying no muggle money and would be able to pay him back later.

And so Ron Weasley departed from the lingerie store and took a breath of fresh, non sexual-tension charged air, and almost immediately regretted being lured away by the promise of food. He went and sat down on a bench that was directly opposite to the lingerie store, right in front of a fake tree that was planted in front of a grocery story. It was... a weird set up, but it had its charm, Ron guessed.

There was a young boy, of Ron's age, who sat down to commiserate with Ron. Deciding to humor him, Ron listened to the story of why he was there.

"I came here with my mum," the boy spoke, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, "and well, who wants to see their own mum trying out lingerie?" he said.

Ron frowned. "I think I know a guy," he said, neutrally, thinking of Draco Malfoy. Hell, if his mother looked half as good as Narcissa Malfoy... Nah, he wouldn't, but he wasn't so certain about Malfoy. There were plenty of rumors about that family and none of them good. "I wouldn't know how that feels, mum never brings me or any of my brothers along when she buys herself or Ginny knickers," he said. Given that they had magic, they didn't buy many, as magic had a way of repairing wear and tear well beyond the ability of muggles. But he didn't mention that.

"Sister? I've got three. I've had to accompany them to buy clothes, too, and they always take forever. They look at everything in every store and never ever choose anything," the boy complained, scowling.

"Think of it this way: At least you're not the one they're buying stuff for. It's even worse when they ask you to choose and then when you choose something, they just tell you it's wrong and ask you to choose what they chose for you," Ron said, rolling his eyes. It was bad enough that their clothing was second hand, but to be limited to their mother's taste in clothes just went too far. It was affecting Ginny worst of all, though. She hated baggy clothing that hid her figure, while their mother wore almost solely such clothing. Ron guessed it had to do with Ginny actually having an athletic, thin and lean frame while their mother had never had a figure she'd been proud of.

Maybe she was just projecting insecurities?

"Yeah, that sucks," the boy agreed. "What's your name?"

"Ron Weasley," replied Ron.

The boy blinked, then got a huge grin. "That's funny. My name is Rod Wesley. Well, Rodney, but nobody calls me that," he said.

"My name's Ronald, but everyone just calls me Ron," Ron replied, with a smile just as wide on his face.

They laughed about the similarity of their names for a while, and continued their conversation as they could finally calm down.

Ron was finding out that, beyond the obvious divide, the muggles and wizards actually had a lot in common, and he wasn't all that different from the muggle boy next to him.

"Who did you come with, anyway?" the boy asked, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back against the bench, clearly expecting his mother to take a while.

"Two girl friends," Ron said, automatically reminding himself that they were girls so as to not give out the ruse.

"... Are they..." the boy began, clearly looking interested now.

"Fit?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," he said, thinking on whether or not Hermione fit the remark.

Thinking of how much he'd been looking at her bum the past years, he had to decide that, despite being otherwise plain looking, Hermione had a delicious rear herself, and with her teeth fixed, he wasn't precissely averse to the idea of snogging her.

"You lucky son of a bitch," the boy said, grinning widely. "I bet you're just wishing you were in there, watching them change, right?"

Ron snorted. "Only one of them is buying, the other is just around because... why do girls do things in group, anyway?" Ron asked, genuinelly curious.

"Yeah," the boy said, nodding at the question, as if that was a statement.

Taking it as the boy simply not knowing, Ron continued. "Anyway, she's my best mate, and, apparently, I'm the first friend she's ever made. And recently, she seems to have developed a sense of humor, and thought it'd be funny to model underwear for me, just to see the faces I made," he said, with a lecherous grin on his face. "Really, it's sad she's more of a sister to me than my actual sister, because if she wasn't, I'd so hit that," Ron said, clearly hurt deeply by his confession to a nameless stranger.

"Ouch, that's got to suck," the boy said. "You got friendzoned pretty badly, huh?"

"Friendzoned?" Ron asked.

The boy blinked. "It's like this: You can't go from friend to boyfriend. You just can't. Once a girl thinks of you as a friend, she'll just never see you as boyfriend material. Don't know why, it just happens," he explained.

"Oh. That sucks, yeah," Ron said, nodding.

The experience of talking with a muggle was actually enlightening to Ron, as he learned of many new concepts that were completely foreign to the wizarding world, including an off handed mention of how outdated his father's Anglia was in the world of cars, and a lengthy discussion of what was the most awesome car around. Ron discovered that he did, indeed, like cars. Almost as much as brooms. He just liked talking about the specifics of them, about how they worked and how they performed.

"Dad's a mechanic," the boy commented. "He tinkers with cars for a living," he explained, seeing Ron's puzzled expression.

And Ron decided that he had to get his own father to talk to such a person. Muggles were just amazing, he decided, and finally saw just how right his father was in his fascination with them. Really, who would've thought that one single trip to muggle London in which he wasn't being pulled along by his mother would change his perspective upon muggles from 'They're just sort of... there... and I don't really care that much' to 'holy crap they're awesome!'?

"Oi, Ron! We're done!" called Harry, as he crossed the nearly completely empty street.

The boy who had just seconds ago enthusiastically talking to Ron about the specifics of old race cars turned around to see who the intrusion was and then promptly felt his jaw hit the ground at what he saw.

Everything else in the world faded from view as his entire world was replaced with the vision of ungodly beauty that could only be a hot as hell devil or an angel of beauty. Either way, he didn't care, and he would treasure the image of her chest, and bum, swaying with her every movement.

"Okay, let me say bye to my new friend Rod here and I'll catch up!" Ron called, as Harry and Hermione waved at him and then began to walk towards the corner, where they'd wait for him while giving him some privacy.

The two males sighed. "I'll send you a letter later. I've got your address," Ron said.

"Sure! You're a pretty cool guy with a totally cool name," Rod replied. "And I envy your taste in friends."

"Want to know a secret?" Ron asked, beckoning him closer. "You saw that girl with white hair? That's the one I told you about," he said, grinning widely.

Rod looked hurt. "You lucky son of a bitch!" he said, nearly crying, "I'm so jealous of you I can't even begin to describe it."

"Want to know something better?" Ron asked.

"What could possibly be better than that?" Rod asked.

"I'm pretty sure both of them swing both ways, or at least, make an exception for each other," Ron said, winking.

Rod really began crying at that point. "You've given me wank material for years, man... Thank you... I don't know how to repay you for what you've done for me..."

"Don't worry, I'll call in the favor," Ron said, standing up and offering his hand. "Good luck, mate, we'll meet again some day," he continued.

"For sure! If you can get me pictures of those two kissing..."

Ron laughed. "I'll see what I can do."

And that's the story of how Ron Weasley made his first muggle friend.

Few knew, or could have foreseen, the world shattering consequences that such an inconsequential meeting such as a chat between Ron Weasley and Rod Wesley could have.

Ron knew them immediately afterwards, though, as a ticked off Hermione told him that Harry's ears were just good enough to pick up their conversation. He regretted nothing and still stood by his words, though.

Hermione, after she finished glaring at Ron and giving him the silent treatment, turned to Harry. "You didn't dispute his words, though..." she began.

"Well, I don't know if he's right or not, yet," Harry admitted. "I'll burn that bridge when I get to it."

Hermione nodded. "That's for the best, I think. Anyway... Should we get to Grimmauld Place and call it a day?"

"Probably. We'll go to an arcade and get me some decent, fitting clothes, tomorrow," Harry said.

Ron began to wonder why they wanted to cut the trip so suddenly...

"I should probably buy something for my throat," Hermione said, suddenly, and smiled at Ron.

And then he just knew there was a very, very stern talk in his future. And he would not enjoy it.


	5. Sirius Exposition!

**Monster Lord**

**Chapter 4: Sirius Exposits!  
**

* * *

Summary: Sirius Black takes a chapter for himself, and reveals some important information to Harry

* * *

Sirius Black loved motorcycles.

He just did. He was unaware of any possible subculture based around them, and even if he had been aware, he wouldn't have cared. He just loved to ride the motorcycle he'd so lovingly charmed and kept perfectly clean and serviceable for so long. Somewhere deep within, he'd regretted letting Hagrid use it, fearing for its 'purity', to say nothing else, but most of the rest of him was just glad that his hobby and love had served to help his godson in a time of need.

Of course, learning where he'd landed said Godson with the bike had been... less than pleasing, but he figured that they couldn't have expected Petunia and Vernon Dursley to be this incredibly narrow minded and spiteful.

Regardless, Sirius had hunted down that motorcycle, which had apparently been sold no less than twice, everyone trying to get rid of the item that had belonged to a remorseless traitor, and recovered it. He'd even paid, even though the man he took it from had been ready to crap himself at the mere sight of Sirius, under the rain, looking half crazed, dirty and ready to kill. Which he'd been, but he'd been ready to kill Mundungus Fletcher, who'd arranged for the sale of his precious.

He'd already taken one of Mundungus' pinkies (it wasn't as if they couldn't be grown back by any competent healer, so Sirius never did see anything wrong with that, even though he'd been told repeatedly it was a brutal punishment) when the man had stolen his family's silverware. Much as he'd hated them for the ideas they held, they were still his family, and the stuff that Mundungus had stolen had, more importantly, belonged to SIRIUS, not them. Well, Sirius and his Godson.

As he activated the invisibility mechanism that had been a requirement for the charmed bike to be legally allowed to be charmed, he began to weave through the London traffic, on his way back to Grimmauld Place, also known as Grim Old Place (at some level, Sirius knew it was a pun, but didn't know if it was intentional or accidental). His mind wasn't on the actions at hand, but rather on what he'd do with his godson. He was, fortunately given what he was currently doing, not drunk anymore, and couldn't readily ignore what was going on with the life of his godson.

He'd given Hermione the book. Discreetly, of course. She was a clever witch, and her brainpower was seriously scary on a good day, but Sirius had twenty years on her, and he had been the stealth man for the Marauders. If there was anyone that could be discreet, it was him, though he might not look it. He'd known what the results would be.

Sirius accelerated, relying on the charms that had taken the motorcycle well and truly beyond the capabilities of what muggles could achieve, both in maneuverability as well as velocity, and began putting more of his mind into dodging traffic that couldn't see him.

He'd have to apologize to his godson for what he'd done to the boy that had once been... But hopefully, he'd understand. Sirius nodded to himself, a slight dip of his head in current circumstances, and reaffirmed that thought.

Harry was a good kid. He'd understand.

"... I should probably get something sweet, though. It worked with Lily..."

* * *

Hermione cracked her knuckles, as Ron tried to squirm his way out of the couch, and placed a quill upon parchment. "Homework! Now!" she yelled, glaring at Ron and taking one of his hands, replacing hers holding the quill. Ron whimpered.

Harry laughed. "You know, for once, I'm glad that the Dursleys don't leave me much to do in my free time other than my homework," he said, sitting down on an arm chair as he watched Hermione glare intently at Ron.

Ron worked in silence for what seemed like hours, but in reality had been no more than sixteen minutes, when suddenly, Sirius burst through the boys' room door. "Bitches I got candy!" Sirius yelled as he came in, waving a plastic bag filled with all sorts of muggle candy.

Harry and Hermione blinked, utterly confused by the sudden and unexpected turn of events.

Ron let out a loud woot of appreciation and dived at Sirius, but he was caught by the collar as Hermione shoved him back onto his seat. "No! No candy until you finish!"

This caused Ron to pout. "But Hermione! I've never had muggle candy before!"

Hermione waved her wand and caused a few sparks to come out. Not the kind of sparks you see in Ollivander's shop all the time, no. These were a little less 'beautiful' and more 'terrifyingly scary electrical discharge'. "No candy until you finish. Are. We. Clear?" she asked, waving the wand to punctuate the last few words each time, accompanied by the crackling of lightning.

Ron sniffled, disappointed. "Why must you be so cruel!?"

Sirius blinked, and then looked at Harry. "Anyway, I've got things to tell you. I bought these," he said, lifting the bag, "so you would be easy to calm down once I told you."

"... Why would I be pissed off?"

Sirius shook his head. "I'd be," he admitted. "Then again, most of this wasn't my choice, so if you want to be pissed off at anyone, it'd be your parents. Hell, I've already gone against their wishes enough. But anyway... I need to tell you a story to begin with, so you'll get a little framing. And it starts like this: In the beginning, there was nothing but chaos..."

* * *

_Until the day that Light and Darkness formed, there was naught but the ever swirling sea of chaos, everything and nothing at once. Impossible, and yet undeniably true, Chaos reigned. Yet from the primordial sea, two beings crawled out, the Light and the Darkness, personified, creating the universe as we know it with their passing._

_These two beings were opposites in all, and were in permanent conflict. Their struggle gave rise to everything that exists today, creating the world that we stand on as a byproduct. As they looked upon their accidental creation, they decided that they were evenly matched and that their struggle would destroy the beautiful worlds that they had created, and so they called for a truce._

_But it was not to last, as their conflict continued. However, they could not meet in battle, for their power was too great and the risk to the worlds immense, and so they created servants to fight in their stead._

_The Darkness, adept at the alteration of life, altered six life forms into the first six Monsters to have ever existed, the Six Great Ancestors. Born of the Darkness itself, they would in turn birth new generations of monsters, all subservient to the first, creating the dark Family that they would lead against the forces of the Light._

_The Light, which was not so adept at it, found itself incapable of repeating such a feat. In order to match the creations of the Darkness, the Light split parts of itself into new beings. The first two, the greatest the Light created, would become the Seraphs, the generals that would lead the Light's army against the darkness._

_The conflict raged for what seemed like an eternity, as the forces of Light and Darkness remained evenly matched._

_Seeing as their conflict would only be resolved when one perished, Light and Darkness once more took to combat each other. Their struggle would eventually lead to untold devastation wreaking havoc with the world._

_Seeing this, the Darkness called for a truce, but the Light would give its mortal enemy no quarter... Until the Darkness stumbled upon an idea. It'd ask for a deal. In return for the safety of their descendants, the Darkness and its six children, the Great Six Ancestors, would seal themselves away for all eternity. The Light accepted this deal, and the Darkness and the Ancestors sealed themselves away._

_Thousands of years passed in peace. The Light grew interested in the going ons of the world beneath its heavenly home, and in particular, in the then-developing humans. That is why it took a more active role in their development. Some say that the tales of Prometheus bringing fire to Humans were inspired from The Light bringing humans progress, leading them from caveman times to what they are today. Some firmly believe that the Light granted humans magic, for it was not natural to them, and made it their divine-given right._

_As Monsters began to prey on humans, the Goddess grew enraged, and ordered her angels to exterminate the threat to her favorite beings. The angels, originally created as an army to fight the Darkness and its servants, made short work of the monsters weakened from thinning bloodlines. Their methods, however, grew more and more violent as the monsters took refuge within human settlements._

_Even worse, the humans began helping them, pleading to the Light for their safety and good health._

_The Light was incredibly insulted by this, and blamed the Monsters for subverting Humans away from it's embrace, leading to brutal punishments doled out on those who would abet and defend monsters._

_At the height of the Monster Purges, the Light had ordered several angelic hosts to be dispatched to human villages. Any village that had ever allowed the presence of monsters was swiftly and brutally destroyed, leaving naught but misery and discord in the avenging angels' wake._

_Seeing as the Light had gone mad in its zeal to destroy monsters, one of the original two Seraphs led a rebellion against its master. The rebellion failed, and although the movement had suffered serious losses, the Seraph had escaped with its life intact._

_However, the other Seraph, its only equal in power, was ordered to hunt down its equal._

_They were the sisters, Micaela the Heavenly Blade and Lucifina the Daystar. Micaela, the elder, tracked down her sister and eventually confronted her in combat. Lucifina refused to raise her blade to her sister, and eventually found herself at the mercy of her sister's blade. Micaela hesitated and decided to allow her sister to escape._

_Lucifina refused such cruel mercy, however, and told her sister of their master's cruelty and madness, and how the very fact that Micaela had been forced to hunt down and kill the person she'd loved most was proof of it, but Micaela refused to listen. Thus Lucifina begged her sister to put her out of her misery, preferring death to life as a powerless Fallen Angel on Earth, but Micaela could not bring herself to end her sister's life._

_The Light, distraught at the betrayal of not one, but two, of its most trusted servants, fell to madness, and decided to kill both for their disobedience._

_Micaela was finally convinced of their master's madness and turned on the Light to defend her sister. Together, the Seraphs defeated the Light and sealed it using the same seal that kept The Darkness and the Great Six Ancestors locked away._

* * *

"With me so far?" Sirius asked, looking at the attentive faces Harry and Hermione were giving him, while Ron was discreetly trying to steal something from the bag of candy.

"You know, it sounds like the Light is the villain of this tale. The Darkness sounds outright reasonable," Hermione said, frowning. "Doesn't sound like something you'd hear from a bedtime story told in the wizarding world," she admitted, knowing how often the Light siders equated it with 'good'...

"This one comes from my family, actually, so it's not precissely a 'light' story," Sirius said with a grin.

"What does this have to do with me?" Harry asked.

"That was just something to give you a frame of reference. That story I just told you? It's actually true. There have probably been a few alterations to it over the years, I guess, but most of it I'm sure is still the true story. However, there's a part of it that's not usually mentioned and that not all that many people know about. And it has to do with the book I gave to Hermione," he said.

"So that's where it came from," Hermione said. "I thought it was weird that there was such a rare book and that it'd be so incredibly cheap... How did you arrange for me to find it in Knockturn?"

"Compulsion charms and intimidation, mostly. I may or may not have been in dog form watching the shop to make sure it wasn't sold before you got to it," Sirius said.

"Couldn't you just have given it to me or something?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow and speaking with a deadpan tone of voice.

"Well, first, it wouldn't have been anywhere near as fun as it was to do it this way," he said, shrugging, "and for another, well... I was gonna do this whole secretive thing, giving you guys scraps of information so you could piece it together yourselves, but that'd take too long," he admitted readily, "plus, that's Dumbledore's schtick and he does better than I do anyway."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Still lost here," Harry said, pointing at his plentiful chest.

"Well, anyway, you read the story that the book had, didn't you Hermione?" Sirius asked.

"Yes. It didn't go into detail about what the Angels were doing, it was mostly about the Monster Lords that followed the original one. The Darkness and the first Monster Lord are one and the same, right?" she asked, her eyes narrowed as she looked at Sirius.

"Yep," Sirius confirmed. "So you know that the Monster Lord is always of the Fateburn line. Well, until that line ended when one failed to reproduce."

"The sixteenth. She was the strongest born in five hundred years, and could never find a man strong enough to give her children," Hermione said, frowning slightly.

"Well, that's actually total bullshit," Sirius said. "The problem was that the one man she found who could give her children turned out to be a half-angel, half-human hybrid. The children they produced were seemingly perfectly human. They weren't even capable of magic. They loved them nonetheless, but they could never be the Monster Lord. When Alipheese the 16th died, the bloodlines of monsters had diluted to the point that there were few, if any, remaining."

"But... aren't Monsters supposed to be magical animals?" Hermione asked.

Sirius laughed. "Actually, not that kind of monster. The monsters had at least a vaguely humanoid form."

"So, it's like Lamias and Mermaids," Ron commented, from the side, after he'd finished discreetly eating a few things from the bag.

"Pretty much, except with all sorts of things, animals, bugs, plants, even furniture," Sirius said. "It's a mess. Anyway, point is, just about everyone now has at least a little monster blood in them. Some theorize that the muggleborns awaken what little monster blood runs in them and that's where their magic comes from," Sirius said, shrugging. "Me? I couldn't care less. Anyway, point is, Harry..."

"Don't tell me. The Potters are descended from the Fateburn family, aren't they?" Harry asked.

"Actually, no," Sirius said, scratching the back of his head. "... To be fair, you almost got it. Try... your mother."

"You're kidding me," Harry said.

"Nope. Ever heard anyone describe your mother's eyes? They'll always tell you they were a mesmerizing shade of green," Sirius commented. "That's 'cause she had access to a little of the same power you do," he said.

"Wait... so this means that..."

"Yep! You're actually a descendant from a god! Well, goddess, but you get my point! To be fair, so is most of the world," Sirius admitted freely. "However, there was something special about you from the day you were born. Why, I'd say this was your destiny from birth."

"You know that destiny is a lie, right?" Hermione asked. "The future isn't set in stone. We should know better than anyone," she continued, remembering her time travelling shenanigans.

"If it were, I'd be dead," Sirius admitted freely, "but that's not my point. That was just a joke. What I'm saying is that there's a reason why I gave you such free access to the ritual that would do this to Harry."

Harry blinked. "What could've possibly given you the idea to give a potentially lethal ritual to a bunch of kids? I know we're awesome and all, but..."

"You see, Harry, I knew all along that the ritual would work right, and that you weren't in any risk. Hell, do you think I would've given you the room you used to do it if I wasn't sure you were safe? I'm irresponsible, but not THAT bad," he chided. "So... hold onto your panties, Harry, 'cuz this one's a shocker," he began, as he dug into one of his pants' pockets.

Harry raised an eyebrow, as Sirius pulled out a lollipop, which he then handed to Harry. This left said boy... quite confused, but he accepted it nonetheless.

"What I ahd to tell you, Harry... is that you were never in any danger, because the ritual actually didn't change much about you," he admitted, freely. "As a matter of fact..."

"You've got to be joking," Harry said. "Also, get on with it already!"

"Spoil my fun," Sirius said, pouting at him. "Well, you want it raw and blunt? Here it goes. Harry, you were BORN like that. You weren't born as Harry James Potter. We, that is the Marauders and your mother, busted our asses to hide your real form. You were born female, and as the first person in your mother's family to truly awaken the power of your blood. You were born as Alipheese the Seventeenth, the Monster Lord by right of Birth. In fact, the ritual that Hermione found wasn't so much made to turn someone into the Monster Lord, as it was made to counter the one we used to turn you into a normal boy."

Harry blinked.

"Oi!" Ron yelled. "I'm finished!" He said, throwing the quill down. "... Did anything important happen while I wasn't paying attention?" he asked, looking around. "What?" he unintentionally echoed Harry.

He then saw Harry's body hit the floor with a loud thumping sound.

He turned to ask Hermione what was going on, only to see her hit the floor as well.

"What the hell is going on?" Ron asked.

"Don't worry, Ron, it's nothing too important. I just told Harry that he never had balls, is all," Sirius said, grinning.

He just knew he'd get his ass kicked later. But it'd been worth it just to see Harry's face.


	6. The Actual Plot Begins

**Monster Lord**

**Chapter 5: The Actual Plot Begins  
**

* * *

Summary: A plan is ready to be set in motion, and it's time to make a stand.

* * *

Sirius picked up his godson... well, goddaughter, he supposed, with one hand below where he guessed his knees used to be and the other around his slender, feminine shoulders. While Harry had been male for the majority of his life, he would have to help the Monster Lord get used to the fact that he had never really been who he thought he was. For a moment, Sirius thought it was a shame. He'd always wanted to have a godson. Then he smiled and shook his head, thinking about the fact that if anyone heard his vaguely mysoginistic inner rant, he'd probably get smacked upside the head. It wasn't as if he believed females inferior to men (far from it, in fact, he could say that the fairer sex was his favorite sex for sure, though he didn't think he'd want to be one of them), but he couldn't connect the same way to a goddaughter than he could connect to a godson.

Thinking about it a little more deeply, he supposed that he'd managed to avoid the problem of having a goddaughter that would be raised as a girl and thus do things that were well and truly incomprehensible to him (such as wearing makeup. He never could understand why women insisted on it, always believing that a girl or woman shined most au naturale), instead he got a godson in a female body. A female body that Sirius knew was designed for the temptation of man. Maybe he shouldn't have helped this transformation along, because he was already irrationally planning a long and complicated plan to murder anyone who would have the balls to get within dating range of Harry.

Huh. He thought he'd buried those feelings before he'd gone to Azkaban. Good to know that at least that part of him was still functioning.

"Harry went snakey," Ron commented, absent mindedly noting the shredded pants, not fit to contain the long and strong looking tail that Harry's lower body became. He also noted that blue was a good color on Harry, before shaking his head. "This is just freaky," he added, frowning, "I'd gotten so used to his being human again that I'd almost forgotten about, well, that," he said, gesturing at the tail that was so long it actually reached the floor despite Sirius' attempts to prevent it from doing so.

"Ron, do me a favor and grab Hermione," Sirius instructed, almost wincing when the Weasley boy threw Hermione over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, clearly straining from the effort. "She heavy?"

"Well, she does have a lot of muscle," Ron admitted, freely.

"Guess walking around Hogwarts carrying a bag filled with books everywhere does do wonders for her," Sirius said with a grin. "I had to rely on Quidditch practice. Anyway, help me put them on one of the comfy chairs," Sirius said, gesturing to his left, an empty wall.

"There are no comfy chairs there," Ron said, frowning.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Can't you do conjuration?"

"I'm going into fifth year," Ron commented, casually.

"... Right," Sirius said, frowning. "Well... We'll have to move them somewhere else. They probably won't be out for long, and I don't want them to wake up on top of us. That just screams awkward..."

Ron frowned. "What about one of the rooms in the second floor?"

"Too distant. We'll put them in the master bedroom. Hah, a mudblood in her bed, oughta drive old 'Burga mad. Well, madder," Sirius amended, seeing Ron's flat stare. "Your brothers in?"

"Nah. Only Ginny's here, and last I heard, she had the wireless really high," Ron said, using his free hand to put his pinky in his left ear as a reminder of how the loud, blaring music had affected them. He wondered how Ginny could stand it, herself.

"She does, huh?" Sirius asked, a knowing smile on his face. "Okay, then. Come with me, we'll put them on a comfy bed and then make it look like they just had sex. It'll be hilarious," he said. "And awkward. Gotta love awkward moments."

And so, the pair of idiots set forth to brave the dark and grim halls of... Sirius' house. It was a very dark and... homey place, ever since Molly Weasley and her brood had moved in to liven up the place. Still, they marched onward, carrying a fair maiden each. "You know, I still don't know what made both of them faint."

"I'll tell you once you're not in danger of dropping Hermione from shock," Sirius said.

As they reached the door, Sirius gestured at Ron for him to go first, and to be careful not to hit Hermione against the doorframe. Then he looked at Harry for a minute and grinned. "Who'd thought that little albino baby would grow up to be a knockout THIS impressive?" he asked, absent mindedly scanning his god...daughter's... assets, his grin widening. "I really will have to put my foot down as Lord Black to stop the suitors. Maybe I'll even save a few of their lives, if they're insistent," Sirius said, feeling a strange urge to cackle madly at the thought of insistent suitors tempting Harry into violence.

Just as he was looking down Harry's cleavage, said Monster Lord's eyes fluttered open and, with a signal groan, Harry awoke. Startled, Harry yelped and tried to jump off Sirius' arms, while at the same time, through instinct, he tried to regain his human form (because it had become a habit to reform his legs every time he woke up). However, this had the unfortunate result of causing Sirius to scramble to prevent Harry from hitting the ground headfirst. He knew, of course, that Harry would dent the floor before he hurt himself, but ingrained responses are ingrained.

* * *

Remus Lupin wasn't precissely having a good day. To start with, he'd been fired from another job due to his lycanthropy. Particularly because he'd been too weak following a full moon and accidentally snapped at a client and lost one sale too many that month. He now knew better than to try to appeal or otherwise apologize for it, as it wouldn't sway his employers in any way.

Then, to make matters worse, Dumbledore had sent him a message through Fawkes that Sirius wasn't at his home. Dumbledore knew that sending Fawkes was useless, as Sirius wouldn't follow any instructions Dumbledore gave him at this point. It took Remus no less than an hour to determine that Sirius had taken his favorite thing in the world for a ride and, were he to be fair, he couldn't blame him for it. He'd been cooped up in Grimmauld Place ever since he argued to Dumbledore that a Fidelius was safer than Harry's blood wards now that Voldemort had Harry's blood, and it was taking a toll on the free spirited man. At least he'd gotten better once Harry and the Weasleys moved in to spend some time with him.

Remus was already dreading what interaction with the twins would unleash, but he was also genuinelly glad to learn that Padfoot had expressed an interest in the Twins' budding enterprise and was more than willing to help them with it.

Soon enough, Remus found himself in a quiet cafe for a cuppa and some quiet time for reflection. Ever since the Order of the Phoenix went back into business, and they'd recruited new members, Remus'd found himself in a particularly sticky situation, mostly due to a particular witch. Nymphadora Tonks had been rather insistent and obvious in her interest, and undeterred by all of his attempts at dissuading her.

Were he to be honest, he was not uninterested in the witch himself. Physically speaking, she could easily make herself the most beautiful woman in the world with her innate ability, that of a Metamorphmagus, capable of transfiguring their body in ways that were either impossible or obscenely complicated without that ability. She was bubbly, full of youthful energy and cheerful, and he found himself liking her a lot. Unfortunately, she was also stubborn as a mule and refused to accept 'no' as an answer. While the attraction was undeniable, Remus was not ready to step into any relationships right now, and he didn't know if he'd ever be. Even worse, he was extremely averse to the thought of reproducing or even marrying, knowing how the stigma of a werewolf would affect his family.

He had his problems.

Not the least of which was the waitress hitting on him. He grimaced when he saw her phone number on the ticket she left him when she departed. He'd actually rejected her advances quite soundly, and yet she continued to display interest in him.

"I should probably get back. Dumbledore will probably scold me for taking it so calm but... can't really bring myself to ruin Padfoot's day out. I'll just yell at him and pretend to be mad for a while," he muttered to himself. Nodding to himself, he went into the cafe's bathroom and, once he made sure he was alone and had charmed the stall to keep the sound in, he disapparated, instantaneously travelling to a hidden apparation point the Order had set up near Grimmauld Place, because it was just too inconvenient to have to arrive through other means, and it was too dangerous to lower the wards to allow apparating directly into the house.

Going in, he was greeted with Ginny Weasley on the kitchen, who was simultaneously eating a bagel and painting her nails. He saw a small scar that ran through her calf, and he frowned slightly. "Hello," he said.

She smiled. "Hello, professor," she replied.

"I'm not your teacher anymore," he pointed out.

"Well, you've been the only DADA teacher worth a damn we've had. Lockhart was a fraud and Crouch was a Death Eater. Okay, so he wasn't actually that bad, certainly better than Lockhart..." she muttered.

Remus was vaguely aware of a grudge Ginny held against the man, but for the life of him, Remus couldn't ever recall why. "Anyway... Quidditch?" he asked, gesturing towards her leg.

"Firecracker gone wrong, actually," she said. "Fred and George weren't always this good, clean or safe when they experimented," she added, seeing the intrigued face her ex teacher had sent her.

Remus winced. Looking back on it, the scar did look more like a burn than it did a cut. "Sorry I brought it up," he said.

"Don't be, they got punished for it," Ginny said, painting her big toenail and finishing off her last toenail with a flourish.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you doing that the muggle way?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Hermione taught me, and it helps me relax," the sole Weasley girl said, cracking her neck a little as she stretched to get rid of the kinks that remaining in a single position for a long time had worked into her body, "it really does," she added, seeing disbelief on her teacher's face.

"Simple, monotonous tasks can help turn the brain off," Remus said, nodding at her. "Didn't know you could do it through painting your nails, though."

"I didn't, either," Ginny said, pulling out her wand and using a drying charm to ensure her work wouldn't go to waste. Then she blinked and looked at Remus. "Don't tell mom I'm using magic!" she said, looking at Remus with a slightly panicked expression, knowing her mother would blow up if she'd found out Ginny wasn't doing something the hard and more 'satisfying', as she called it, way.

"Marauder, remember?" Remus said, grinning slightly. "Anyway, I really need to find Padfoot. He's here, right? I thought I saw his motorcycle coming in earlier."

"Yes. He was actually going to help Ron, Hermione and Harry with something, though I don't think he said what. They're probably on the second floor doing Ron's homework."

Remus nodded. "Thank you," he said, before turning around and leaving the kitchen to head to the second floor.

Ginny's grin widened as Remus went up the stairs. "Oh, I soooo have to see his face when he first sees Harry!" she said, barely resisting the need to cackle maniacally.

* * *

"Padfoot! Ginny said you were up here! We've got to ta-"

Remus' world came to a crashing halt when he came upon Sirius. Because Padfoot, old horn dog that he was, had not been alone when Moony found him. What he found was Sirius Black holding onto a stunningly beuatiful, silver haired girl that had a pair of knockers to put anyone's to shame, who was wearing only shredded rags in place of bottomwear and who was clinging to Sirius as if hanging onto for dear life. And Padfoot had a wide grin on his face, almost lecherous. They were also about to enter the master bedroom.

"Hi Moony," the two chorused, looking at him.

"Bloody hell, Padfoot! Now that's what I call a just reason for going out!" Remus said, almost wanting to pull his eyeballs out to polish them and see if what he was seeing was right.

Then the two, Padfoot and the unknown girl, looked at each other for a full two seconds before both burst laughing, though the girl was noticeably blushing about it.

It took a mere instant after that for Remus to sniff the air, then. He noticed only the barest hint of arousal, the smell that clung to Sirius ALL the time, and another, intensely familiar smell that he'd actually memorized and cherished very much. "Wait... I know this girl..."

Then the werewolf's eyes widened.

"Harry, is that you?!"

* * *

"So... the seal's broken, huh?" Remus asked. "It had to happen at some point. Lily never wanted you to become the Monster Lord you were born to be, but... I guess her wishes flew out the window when the war started brewing..."

Sirius nodded. "I couldn't risk Harry by harmstringing his power. If he's going to defeat Voldemort, he'll need all that power, and more," he said.

Hermione groaned as she held his head. "I think a bruise is forming," she muttered, rubbing at her temple. She glared at Ron, who looked at her sheepishly. He'd accidentally dropped her when Sirius had almost dropped Harry. This time, he had paid attention to the explanation. Sirius himself had a lot of missing details, as he couldn't remember quite as well as Remus what their plans for Harry had been.

Therefore, the werewolf had launched into a more detailed explanation of the situation. "Harry, we couldn't really let your heritage come out. After all, you were descended to one of the most prominent Light sided families, but your mother's heritage was as dark as it could possibly be. You're directly in line to the uninterrupted Fateburn and Hein lines, and both are families so dark it makes the Malfoys look like the Longbottoms," explained Remus frowning and looking at the ceiling for a second. All the green and silver in the master bedroom was starting to wear on him. There was a reason he preferred red and gold.

"So, Harry's some sort of super ancient Monster's descendant, and Hermione didn't turn him into that with a ritual?" Ginny asked. "That's..."

Harry got ready to cringe, knowing the expected reaction from a witch as close to the light as Ginny was, due to her family, would probably be extreme. She didn't know him anywhere near as well as Ron, who could cast off his prejudice because he just knew Harry too well to think badly of him for something out of his control, plus he'd learned his lesson already. Still, he hated the fact that this would deprive him of a possible friendship with her. She seemed like a fun gal and he enjoyed the times when she could actually find the courage to speak in his presence. He began to squirm under the covers of the King Size bed they were all sitting on or around. Harry himself was under the covers, as per Hermione and Ron's request, as it was weird talking to him given that they could see his naughty bits.

"... awesome!" Ginny said, almost giddy in her speech.

Harry felt the fluffy bed welcome his back as he lost his composure in sheer shock at her pronounciation of his status as an icon of Darkness as 'Awesome'. She was a Weasley, through and through, it seemed.

"Seriously, that's really cool! Weird, but cool," she said, nodding at Harry. "Also, now girls outnumber boys in the Quidditch team!"

Hermione blinked, then felt that the palm that had just hit her forehead was absolutely necessary. "THAT's what you're concerned about?"

Ginny shrugged. "What? Should I be pissed off or something? Harry is Harry, no matter what package he's wrapped up in... or sporting..." she added the last part in a whisper, her face colouring a furious Weasley red.

"I knew it!" Hermione suddenly yelled, snapping her fingers.

Ginny's face became even redder.

"What are they talking about?" Ron asked Harry, looking oddly concerned, but Harry could only shrug, as he didn't know.

Sirius face morphed into a surprisingly creepy and lecherous grin, while Remus pretended to cough to hide his giggles.

"... Padfoot, stop grinning like that," Harry said, feeling oddly... violated for some reason.

"I want to, but I can't," Sirius commented, between teeth. "It's just... some good memories, that's all," he said, shaking his head and managing to subdue his treacherous face.

"O...kay..." Harry said, unconvinced, before turning to look at Ginny.

Ginny went so red at that point that Harry was genuinelly afraid she might pass out or something.

"You okay, Ginny? You're looking redder than Ron when Malfoy's around," Harry commented, focusing his gaze upon the youngest of the group.

"I still don't get it," Ron said, frowning.

Hermione smiled. "Ron. I'll be utterly and completely blunt, since you wouldn't get it otherwise-"

"Wait, no! Don't tell-" Ginny began, trying to jump at Hermione, barely managing to stop her from finishing that sentence.

"Ron, your sister bats for both teams, if you know what I mean," Sirius said, wagging his eyebrows.

Ginny was mortified, and retreated into herself.

Ron instantaneously went slightly red, and his mouth formed a big 'oh' of understanding.

"... But she usually plays chaser, not beater," Harry commented, running a hand through his hair before flicking it so it rested behind his shoulder.

"Wow. Just... just wow," Sirius said. "And I thought my puns were bad."

Harry pouted.

"You're just adorable when you do that, you know?" Remus commented.

Ginny sheepishly nodded.

So did Hermione.

And even Ron!

The only one who didn't, was Sirius, who laughed and ruffled his hair, though it soon returned to its perfectly immaculate position. It was the antithesis of the Potter hair he'd been cursed with before. He already missed his messy crow's nest, at least he didn't have to take so much care cleaning THAT.

"I'm just wondering, how we went from discussing Harry's situation to my... well, you know," Ginny spoke, looking a little unsteady as she did.

"It probably wouldn't have happened if you hadn't kept those pictures Colin took of Harry in the shower," Ron commented.

"... he took WHAT!?" Harry asked, scandalized, he almost shot to his feet, but then remembered where he was and blushed sheepishly as he adjusted the covers on top of his naked legs.

"Oh, yeah. They're a common commodity for sale and trades in the younger years," Ginny said, smiling as she now took control of the conversation and was embarrassing someone else. It helped that Harry looked outright adorable, now that he was pouting with even more fervor.

"I am going to kill and EAT Colin Creevey," Harry said, darkly. "Not precissely in that order."

"Well, anyway, we're going off track," Sirius said. "The point here is, we can't really have that story come out to the public, so we're going with the 'ritual to defeat the Dark Lord' thing and leave it at that."

"Won't people get MORE suspicious if they learn he used a Dark Ritual?" Hermione asked.

"Eh. Screw that noise," Harry said. "I'm not hiding the truth. I'll tell it to whoever wants to hear it. I'm through with running away or just waiting for trouble to find me," he said, nodding to himself. "I've got power now. I can use it. I'm not letting anything happen to any of my friends ever again. One was too many... I am not a child anymore, and I can't keep hiding like this. I've been playing around, going shopping instead of concentrating on what I should be doing... But that ends today. I won't be a burden or a load to be carried and hauled, and I will not be an useless figurehead or puppet like Fudge!"

"Harry..." Hermione muttered, putting a hand on her best friend's upper arm, a silent show of support.

Ginny, Ron, Remus and Sirius nodded. "If that's what you want to do, we'll support you," Ron spoke for the group.

"You can count on us," Remus added.

"Okay... first order of business, I'm getting Sirius declared free. So... anyone has a plan?"

Suddenly, a voice cut through the air. "Why, Mr. Potter, it just so happens to be that I, as a matter of fact, do," a calm, cheerful and kind sounding voice said, though for some reason, it sent shivers down Harry's spine. "Hello, Harry. I am proud of you for your resolution... and you are right. You are not a child anymore. I believe that, contrary to what I wish had been the case, you never really were. And there is no other to blame for it than I," Albus Bloody Dumbledore said, as he walked through the open door that separated Grimmauld Place's Master Bedroom from the rest of the manor.

"Professor..." Harry said, his eyes narrowing in determination.

"I hope you are correct, Harry, and that you are ready. We'll begin moving against Voldemort. Fudge does not believe us, and if he does, then he's so deeply in denial that he's actively sabotaging any possible efforts to prepare for the oncoming threat. War looms, and I refuse to let Britain suffer for the cowardice of one man. Not again. Not ever again. Like you said, Harry, one time was too many," Dumbledore said, sounding the most serious Harry had ever heard him. "I will do my best to schedule a trial for Sirius. My negotiations with Fudge should be quick. I will desist in my claim of Voldemort's return. Upholding it now does us no favours. Unfortunately, this will cut off what little official support we have. The road ahead will be long, dangerous and difficult to tread. All of you here will be deeply involved in it, and while I wish I could protect all of you," he spoke, gesturing towards the students, particularly Ginny, "I am afraid that war will find you nonetheless."

"Then..."

"I am afraid I find myself in desperate need for a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. And you happen to be a qualified Hitwizard who got an O in all matters pertaining to that subject in both school and the Hitwizard training academy, aren't you, Sirius?"

Sirius Black grinned so wide it almost split his face in half. Almost.

* * *

"Say... Professor..." Harry began, as the others began to drift out of the room, "how long were you listening?"

"Long enough," Dumbledore spoke as he smiled under his beard. "A good magician never reveals his secrets, Harry, but on this time, I believe I can tell you that the secret was 'you left the door open and the message Remus was supposed to tell Sirius was that there was going to be a meeting after dinner tonight'," he said, clear mirth in his voice and face.

"So we can blame Remus for being easy to eavesdrop on?"

"Well, him or Messers Weasley, who were also listening in on your conversation with those delightful inventions of theirs. I do believe those two are going to revolutionize the art of pranking, much like the Marauders in their heyday," Dumbledore said. "Anyway, I do believe you had a wardrobe accident, and one that I just happen to be able to solve..."

Harry smiled.

"Thank you, professor."

"Don't mention it, Harry," Dumbledore said, with a nod. "Now, however, there is a certain facet of the power of a Monster Lord that I wish for you to learn to use. It is one of the most useful abilities at your disposal, and perhaps, one could even say that it is the one that gives you the title itself."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, somewhat confused. "Wait... you can't possibly mean..."

"Yes, Harry, it's time for you to begin creating your monster servants."

* * *

It's kind of sad knowing my usual chapter length that this chapter is nearly half again as long as the usual for this fic, and yet it's only 4300 or so words, not counting title, summary and author notes.

Oh well, whatevs.

And before you ask... What do you THINK Ginny was doing with the music up, that had her relaxed and mellow when she went to the kitchen for something to eat?


	7. Hedwig Harps at Sirius

**Monster Lord**

**Chapter 6: Hedwig Harps At Sirius  
**

* * *

Summary: Padfoot has no idea what he's getting into and Albus Dumbledore and Harry have an important series of conversations.

* * *

It didn't take long for Harry and Dumbledore to move to Grimmauld Place's attic, and Dumbledore immediately opened the small window that let a little sun in the moment they arrived. Harry shrugged, not questioning the man's actions, even though it was a little chilly, as nightfall passed.

"I think you should be in your true form for this, Harry, after all we are dealing with Monster Lord matters."

Hearing the headmaster's words, Harry nodded and released the transformation, turning himself into the Monster Lord.

Albus Dumbledore was, without a doubt, more than a little peeved at the measures that he had been forced to resort to. He'd, oh so dearly, wished he could have resolved this conflict by his hand alone, he wished he hadn't needed the involvement of children too young to apparate yet, let alone fight. But he could not. And those children... He knew that in their future lay greatness. One way or another, he knew that they would become great in what they chose to do. Whether it be through their own determination, innate talent or through other things.

And of course, he knew that Harry Potter was now one of the biggest powers in the world. As the Monster Lord, Harry would, rightly, rule over all monsters and govern them as he saw fit. There weren't many monsters left, and the few that were around were all old and powerful, unlikely to bow down to Harry's rule from sheer might, but he hoped that Harry would eventually be able to convince them through other means.

For the time being, however, the Monster Lord could not be without servants. Not when what was coming was almost upon them.

"Are you sure, sir?" Harry asked.

He'd liked the boy better when he was... well, a boy. He'd liked the gorgeous green eyes he had seemingly inherited from Lily, and the reminder of James Potter, and the bravery and selflessness that the man displayed on any given day at his job. But right now, Harry's appearance was a symbol of pure, unbridled strength and power.

Dark strength and power, but Dumbledore was above such petty judgements. He did not oppose the dark, he opposed evil.

"Of course I am, Harry," Dumbledore said. "It's your right," he added.

"But... that's not... What..." the boy shook his head.

Dumbledore smiled as he saw his hair whip about. It was as silver as Dumbledore's own, and reminded the man that his hair, despite graying prematurely, was as strong as ever. Long live the White Hair Union. "I'm sure you'll figure it out with ease," he said, nodding. "The tales speak of the original monster lord 'corrupting' and 'defiling', so to speak, life forms through its power. Your best bet at the moment would be to simply pour your magical power into something and hope for the best."

Harry frowned, twisting his face's features in a way that was much reminiscent of Lily Potter's reactions to puzzles that she thought didn't make a lick of sense. "That doesn't sound too inspiring," he said.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Sometimes, the simplest solution is the correct one. Now, I believe there's one creature that's always been with you, and who I'm certain would appreciate being... uplifted, so to speak," Dumbledore said, nodding his head.

Harry shook his head. "I know how to do it," Harry admitted.

Dumbledore blinked. "You do?" he asked.

In return, Harry nodded. "I went to Gringotts and met with the Goblin King," he explained.

"Harry, there hasn't been a goblin King in a little under six hundred years, and there can't be any, the line was erradicated," explained Dumbledore. That was odd. He was certain Binns covered the Goblin Rebellion where that happened pretty well. It had been one of the man's ancestors who annihilated Goblin King Gnarl, after all.

"There's been one. The Goblins call him Gnarl the Eternal King. A Necromancer raised him shortly after his death, and he's served as their ruler since," Harry explained.

"I am... less surprised than I should be. They never went into the panicked craze that the world expected them to after their society was decapitated," Dumbledore said, frowning a little. "Regardless... You were explaining?"

"Right," Harry said, shaking his head of the thought of how much the Wizards just assumed, "I know that I can make new monsters, and how to do it. It's not too dissimilar from what you thought, I just need to keep in mind what I want to do to the monster I'm pouring power into. I can also use that same power to enhance the monsters I create for a limited time, or to unseal them if they have been sealed," Harry explained. "But... Hedwig?"

"Of course, Harry. She's been your companion for over four years now, has she not?"

"Almost," Harry replied. "Still..."

"There haven't been harpies in nine hundred years," Dumbledore absent mindedly commented.

Harry ultimately relented. "Very well. Where is Hedwig?"

"Well, I sent her with a letter to myself before I left the castle, so she should be here... about five seconds ago," Dumbledore commented, and Harry automatically extended his right arm, only to feel Hedwig's claws grab onto his exposed skin, failing to damage it.

Harry frowned, then reached with his other hand to offer Hedwig a pet of thanks. "What do you think, Hedwig? Do you want to be a monster, my servant?" he asked.

Hedwig let out a loud bark of approval, and beat her wings to remove herself from the improvised perch, landing on the floor in front of Harry.

"Well... if that's what you want. Here goes nothing..." Harry said, as he put both hands forward and summoned his power, the way King Gnarl had taught him.

There was a flash of light, and then it EXPLODED.

"... Why does everything I do explode!?" Harry yelled, as the ringing sound left his ears. Dumbledore pointed at his own ears, signalling to Harry he didn't hear.

Harry sighed.

"I asked," he mouthed slowly, "why does everything I do explode?"

"No, no, I'm not saying I'm deafened, I'm pointing a little more upwards," Dumbledore said, frowning a little.

Harry reached with his hand and found something... hard meeting him. "Did I just grow horns?"

"Apparently," Dumbledore said, as Harry traced the hard, bone-like protrusions from the sides of his head, as they curved inwardly, almost reaching back into his head. "Don't worry, they are a very lovely dark blue color, and I dare say they look very good on you," he continued.

"That's not- wait, HEDWIG!" Harry yelled, suddenly remembering what he was doing and dashing for the middle of the room, where Hedwig had been standing before. Now, however, instead of a beautiful snowy owl, feathers as pure as the whitest snow, was... well, Hedwig.

Only 'Hedwig', instead of describing Harry's owl, would now describe a voluptuous woman with hair as white as the purest virgin snow that fell to the middle of her back and looked so soft that Harry wouldn't have been surprised if it was just as soft as Hedwig's plummage had been. Her naked torso was that of a woman, no doubt, an adult woman who looked even more mature than Harry's own, impossibly beautiful body, and she was by all means more appealing to look at than himself, though Harry might be biased to love his owl regardless of what she looked like and less enthused with his own body.

It was odd to see, however, that where her arms should have been, there was a pair of beautiful wings. Not owl wings, but rather oddly-armlike wings. The feathers were his owl's, though, from color to shape to, as Harry was discovering now, how they felt to the touch. Harry knew this because Hedwig had thrown her arms around him with a cry of "Your Majesty!"

"Uhm... Hi, Hedwig!" Harry replied, eloquently, absentmindedly noting that the legs wrapped around him were also covered in feathers, and seemed to be a strange cross between human and bird legs, ending in birdlike talons, but being basically human legs covered in feathers until they reached the knee. Harry blushed. "Uhm... can you let go? Things are getting... squished..." he muttered, feeling a dark red blush creep over his face as he felt his once-owl's... chest pressed onto his own.

"But it feels goooooood~" Hedwig whined.

"Hedwig, the headmaster is watching!" Harry protested weakly as his familiars wings started to rub his back and noticeably straying to his bum, poorly covered as it was by the rags that had once been his pants.

Hedwig pouted and let go, standing in front of Harry and striking a pose, almost as if showing herself off. "You like, my queen?" Hedwig asked, performing a little twirl.

Harry nodded dumbly. "You're... beautiful, Hedwig," he said, his eyes glued to Hedwig's breasts as they swayed. "Also... I don't answer to female pronouns," he added.

The newly created harpy frowned. "But... Master is female and has always been..."

Harry blinked, but chose to ignore it. Of course his owl had always known that he was a girl, even though he himself didn't. She was scary smart like that. Speaking about smart... "Wait, how can you speak English? I thought I'd have to teach you all sorts of things-"

"I took it from you. When you created me, you imbued me with all the knowledge I'd need to exist in this society. Well, as far as you yourself know, at any rate, which includes language and, more thankfully, how to use the human lungs I'm breathing with," Hedwig explained.

"That makes sense. It's similar to the creation of homunculi, then," Dumbledore noted.

"... I like your beard," Hedwig commented.

"Why, thank you," Dumbledore said. "I like your hair very much."

"Of course you do. I am beautiful in any form," Hedwig ran a hand through her pale white hair. Unlike her master's, hers was perfectly white and did not have the almost metallic sheen that qualified Harry's as definitely silver. It was closer to the headmaster's color. "I liked having feathers better. I didn't have to wear clothes to keep myself warm, then," she commented.

"Even if it were warm out, you can't walk around with... those... hanging out in public," Dumbledore commented. "It might traumatize a poor young woman with insecurities about her chest size," he added, helpfully, at the odd, questioning look Hedwig had sent him.

Hedwig smiled. "It might show them an impossible goal that they would strive to futilely! My beauty cannot be matched!"

Harry sighed and opened his mouth to speak, to declare that, with an ego of that size, this was definitely Hedwig, when, suddenly, Hedwig looked at him, and Harry suddenly froze in place.

"Well, except for Your Majesty, of course," Hedwig said. "But then again, it'd be unfair to compare anyone, even myself, to you, my master," she purred, offering her master a sultry smile. "It's almost a shame that you don't have your boy form anymore, master, you are a delicious dish either way, but..."

Harry blinked.

"Yo, Harry, Headmaster, dinner's about read-" Sirius began as he stuck his head up the trapdoor that lead to the attic from the hallway below, when his eyes locked on the harpy still in the middle of the room. "Hot damn, that's one big pair o' tits," he commented, eloquently.

Hedwig smiled widely as she looked at Sirius.

Harry sighed. "Well, we should go down to dinner. Do you want to come with us, Hedwig?" Harry asked.

Said harpy shook her head. "Actually, I want to talk to your godfather in private, Harry..."

Dumbledore smiled. "Very well. We shall see you in a minute, then."

Harry shrugged. "Okay. Don't piss her off, Padfoot. And Hedwig, when you get a minute, explain the situation to him, would you?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," Hedwig said, nodding at Harry.

Sirius, thoroughly confused but already liking where this situation was going, climbed up the magical ladder and then let Harry and the headmaster pass him by.

Hedwig's smile turned predatory, and with a wave of her hand, a strong gust of wind was summoned that knocked the little stick that held the trapdoor open off, allowing it to close behind the headmaster.

"Now, Miss... Hedwig, was it? what did you want to talk with me about, hm?" Sirius asked, grinning. "This has got to be quite important, for us to miss a homemade dinner cooked by Molly Weasley," he said, pantomiming the action of polishing his fingernails.

"I am not interrupting _my_ dinner, Mr. Black," Hedwig commented, her tone laden with a combination of lust and more lust.

Hedwig pounced on Sirius before he could make a witty retort.

* * *

"This is the first step, Harry," Dumbledore said, as they began to move to the dinning room.

Harry nodded. "At least now Hedwig can answer me when I talk to her," he said. "I'm not sure it was all that good an idea, though."

"Well, Harry, if you're going to be the ruler of all monsters, there must be monsters for you to rule, and just one isn't enough, is it?" Dumbledore asked with a smile. "We're building an army, Harry, and I fear we may need it."

"Really? I didn't think the situation was THAT bad. After all, most of the really loyal Death Eaters are in Azkaban," Harry said.

"Not for much longer. Azkaban won't stop Voldemort for long, Harry, and I have never trusted the Dementors. I fear they may go to his side. To prepare for that, we must be ready. You must be ready," Dumbledore explained. "I am loathe to rob what remains of your childhood from you, but... I am afraid it must be done. For what it's worth, I apologize, Harry, for everything that's happened to you."

"Sir... you couldn't have known that the Dursleys would be so spiteful," Harry said, shaking his head. He knew the man was, on a certain level, very naive and saw the best in people, or at least tried to. "But just apologizing won't solve anything... And it's not just me you've hurt."

Dumbledore blinked. "What do you mean?"

Harry bit his lip for an instant, but then he resolved that he might as well get it through. "I've always felt you're quite neglectful of Hogwarts and the students, headmaster..."

Dumbledore blinked. With the preparations for the war, he'd been more and more remiss in his duties as headmaster, but surely he hadn't slipped so much, had he?

Harry whirled on him and drove his pointer finger into Dumbledore's chest, almost knocking him into a wall from the sheer force that the poke had commanded.

"You hid the Philosopher's Stone in a school fool of children. You put them all in danger to protect the stone. You were less than dilligent with the search for what was causing the petrifications back in my second year. You only put up a minimal, token protest when Fudge put dementors in the school in third year. And you regularly let students get away with bullying, and it was extremely obvious last year!" Harry nearly exploded, working himself up as he reached the end. "I mean... How can you not see the Slytherin students calling muggleborns mudbloods in every chance encounter? How can you not see Draco Malfoy bullying muggleborns? How could you not see the 'Potter Stinks' badges? Even in Gryffindor... I love Fred and George, and they're really funny, but sometimes, they're bullies too! Most of the time, they're just getting back at someone for their own bullying, but they also often prank people who're just minding their own business, either by collateral or on purpose! And don't even get me started on the poor teachers! Binns is like a broken record stuck on one track, Quirrel I'm sure was teaching so poorly on purpose and Crouch used unforgivables on his own students! Also, why is Filch even at the school? What is his purpose? The House Elves do the cleaning and the prefecst take care of patrolling the school at night, so what is he even doing here?"

Dumbledore was silent all throughout the rant.

"... Harry... I apologize, but as much as it pains me to admit it, Hogwarts has been a rather low priority, amongst my many positions, for the last decade," Dumbledore admitted.

"But it really shouldn't be! Hogwarts is probably the most important position of them all! You've got the students, you've got the children, which means that you, as Headmaster, control how the future develops! Because the future generations will be, for ten months out of every year, directly under your care! You're the one who ultimately has final say on how our minds are molded!" countered Harry, scowling at Dumbledore. "I'm not surprised that the Death Eaters are the way they are. They are probably all spoiled brats who have always had everything go their way, and since you didn't curb that behavior at Hogwarts by letting them get away with it, they never learn to stop being spoiled brats, and they never learn to respect the rules or other people because nobody ever told them they're not as important as they think they are, and nobody taught them that breaking rules has consequences!"

"Harry... that is..." Dumbledore began, shocked, as he let out a loud gasp. "That..."

Harry blinked, as his fury evaporated, and he saw that he'd been poking Dumbledore's chest to punctuate his statements, and had been driving the man against the wall with everyone of them. Fearing for the old man's life, Harry frowned. "Er... sorry, sir, I got a bit worked up, are you okay?" he asked. Seeing Dumbledore nod, Harry sighed in relief. "It's just that... It all came out at once, you know? It felt like I'd been holding it in forever. I've always wanted to complain about how the Slytherins can get away with anything since Snape always punishes their victims instead of his Slytherins and you let him get away with that," Harry said, frowning.

Dumbledore sighed. "Professor Snape, Harry," he automatically corrected. "Still... what you said does bear weight. I've been very remiss in my duties as headmaster, and that is inexcusable. Even my predecessor at his worst did not neglect the school as much as I do. I'm getting old, I'm not the man I used to be and I can't handle this many responsibilities all at once like I used to. Because of this, they're all suffering. I tried to keep my hands off Hogwarts, trusting that it would turn out okay... but I've only made the problems that spawned Voldemort worse..."

Harry nodded in understanding. "I know you've been very busy, professor, but..."

"Like I said, Harry, there is no excuse... You are correct. I am not fit to be Headmaster of Hogwarts as I am. I will have to... how do the youngsters these days say? Ah yes... step up my game," he said, nodding to himself. "I should have taken Armando's advice and hired a secretary."

"Let's make that our first move. Let's reinforce the school... After all, it would be pointless to win this war if we're going to raise another Voldemort, right?" Harry asked with a smile.

"You are right," Albus said, nodding. Then he looked pensive for a few seconds. "You know, Harry, once I entertained the thought of making you my successor, of holding onto the seat of Headmaster until such a time as you could take it... and I am certain, now, that I made the right choice," he said, nodding once more, "and I am more than glad to know this. I hope I will be the one to give you my seat, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling kindly at Harry.

Harry blushed in embarrassment, fidgeting slightly. Looking down, he noticed he was still in monster form, as his tail was wagging happily at the praise he'd been given. He reminded himself to change back, and, without a further word being spoken, the Headmaster and the student continued their interrupted journey to the Dinner Table.

* * *

Hedwig's a harpy now. As for what exactly she means when she says she isn't interrupting dinner, well, it should be rather obvious what she means, even if you haven't played MGQ. Regardless, the joke will, obviously, be Harry's own reaction when he learns, so it's not like that matters. Hedwig is usually characterized as very vain and smart, as well as loving towards Harry, and I tried to go for that. Hence why Hedwig seems to be 'lesbian' for Harry. For the record, Monster Girls don't have sexualities, as such, and are actually rather depraved, to the point that most don't seem to mind if they have to share a... meal... with the rest of their families, and work together towards obtaining it. It'd be like the Asari from Mass Effect having a sexuality to speak of. They're all female, after all.

Harry's rant is, I will admit, a little of an author filibuster. I omitted a great deal of what would've been my own rant against Dumbledore, mostly because from Harry's perspective, getting rewarded for the events at the maze and the way he was rewarded isn't a problem, and he's not quite aware of the fact that the Slytherins are also discriminated against, which only further complicates the situation.

He IS too young and uninformed to look upon this problem from the same perspective I am looking at it, so where I would complain mostly about how Dumbledore is teaching the kids terrible lessons all around, Harry's rant is more about how he perceives that the Slytherins are benefitting from blatant favoritism, and how it's causing people like the Malfoys to continue to crop up. Of course, Harry has his own experience with horribly spoiled brats, such as Dudley, and brats who are allowed to get away with anything they do without punishment, like Dudley's friends and the Big D himself.

Point is, while I can't claim I succeeded, I at least TRIED to make the filibuster be less 'author filibuster' and more 'Harry complains about Slytherin favoritism'.

For the record, he's been emboldened enough to complain like this because he feels like Dumbledore's actually acknowledging and paying attention to him now. If, say, Dumbledore hadn't actually been treating Harry as someone capable of making his own choices and decisions and instead had been treating him much like Harry's treated in canon, meaning like a normal kid, Harry wouldn't have been brave or bold enough to rant like that. Plus, by the end he'd worked himself up enough to continue.

And yes, he IS meant to sound a little whiny about it. He's a teenager, after all. And even worse, he's dealing with the hormones that come from being a teenaged lamia...

And no, that is not ALL that the conversation with Gnarl was about, but the rest of what was revealed in it will have to wait.


	8. Family of all kinds

**Monster Lord**

**Chapter 7: Family of all kinds  
**

* * *

Summary: Dumbledore informs the birdwatching club of the current situation. Moody thinks they're all boned. There are emotional conversations. A dedicated owl is dedicated.

* * *

Sirius relaxed in his chair, a little pale and clearly barely hanging onto consciousness, yet splitting his face with a shiteating grin the likes of which had never been seen. And he called himself "Padfoot, bird tamer," which had elicited a few chuckles, as he still had feathers in his hair, giving people the wrong impression of what he'd been doing for the past hour and a half.

He blatantly ignored the odd look his friend Remus gave him when he took a few sniffs of the air, as well as the situation update that Dumbledore gave his fellow Order of Turkey Stuffers members.

Everything was going according to plan. He'd had time to talk to Harry during dinner, and his plan for the night was already in motion. He'd settle a score that had been bugging him for a while already tonight.

Moody stopped Dumbledore as he rounded out the tale, looking gravely and taking in the disturbed faces that the bird watchers were making. "So... let me get this straight. The 'Boy Who Lived' is no longer a boy, and in his place, there is now a teenaged demi-goddess. Not content with her massive physical strength and her command of the elements, she also has high level Mystic Eyes as well as magical resistance on par with a basilisk, if not better. Am I correct, so far?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Unfortunately, it's prudent to assume that, as he took young Harry's blood in his resurrection, Voldemort might find himself possessing more power than he ever held before."

"Still, we have the Monster Lord on our side. The very goddess that every dark witch or wizard who takes themselves seriously worships. That should be a pretty gigantic hit on Voldemort's popularity with them, given that he is directly oppossing her," someone interrupted.

"It's not enough. Most of Voldemort's followers have forgotten the old ways. That's actually part of the reason the Blacks refused to join him and only the dumber members of our family, that being cousin Bella, brother Reggie and mummy dearest, expressed an interest in joining him," Sirius said, leaning back and resting his arms behind his head, looking at the ceiling of the dinning room, where the meeting was being held, after it'd already been cleaned by Kreacher. "They never were very smart."

Snape sneered. "You're not much better yourself, mutt," he commented.

"I'm not the one with a Dark Mark on my arm, now am I?" Sirius retorted, raising an eyebrow and pointedly looking at the arm that Snape unconsciously held closer to his body. Snape was a firm believer in keeping your allies close, and your enemies closer, and Sirius knew this very well.

Snape glared at him.

"Stop bickering like children for a minute and concentrate. Sirius, you're, of us, the one who has the most lore on the Darkness and its worship. I know I ask you to abandon the beliefs that brought you to the light, but-"

"Light?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm a Black. I can't escape the Darkness any more than James could escape the Light. No, I never turned to the light. Voldemort's always been an insult to everything I was raised to believe in, and he openly flaunted his betrayal by speaking parseltongue. This war never was Light Versus Dark, it's always been reasonable people against a lunatic madman and his moronic followers," Sirius explained, shrugging.

"That's... awfully surprising. I'd always thought-" McGonnagal began, frowning slightly, before she was interrupted.

"While we're on it, I've also got ties to the Dark," commented one of the Order's aurors, Emmeline Vance, "I've... never been proud of them, since they were connected to the 'Dark' Lord, and, well, he goes against everything I was taught the Dark was supposed to be."

"And what, exactly, is the Dark supposed to be, according to you lads?" asked Moody, narrowing his natural eye while his other eye spun around madly.

"Nurturing. Protecting. The Dark was meant to give life, and protecting it... Voldemort's ideals never matched up to the ones my parents taught me," Emmeline said, in a small voice.

"Slytherin was once a great Dark Wizard," Dumbledore began, looking at the table. "However, of the founders four, he was the sole representant of the Dark, and his house became the breeding ground for morally bankrupt wizards, as those were the ones willing to do whatever it took to achieve their ends, which meant they often didn't represent the traits of the other three houses. Eventually, people began to hate his house, and himself, for this, blaming him, and with him, the Darkness. Its meaning mutated into what it is today due to this. Slytherin himself went insane from the prosecution he faced from those who misunderstood him. The Dark itself hasn't changed, but the people now misinterpret who is dark. Light and Darkness have nothing to do with your morals, as only the balance of Light and Darkness keeps the world spinning," he continued, closing his eyes just before he finished his speech. "The Black Library has some fantastic tomes on the subject, and they are surprisingly less biased than I'd expected. As an aside, Serpentarius Black was a fantastic storyteller, and it's a shame his books never got the widespread recognition they deserve."

Snape nodded, seeming almost ashamed to admit that someone of Sirius' family had a talent for something not destruction-related. "That was Founders' Folly, was it not?"

"Indeed," Emmeline commented. "I have that tome, myself. Though I hadn't known that the two hours between dinner and now would've been enough to gain that much knowledge..."

"I've been studying the tomes in the Black Library, and cross referencing it with the Forbidden Section of Hogwarts' Library, ever since Harry's status was made aware to me," Dumbledore corrected.

"We're digressing," Moody commented. "The theme we ought to treat here is that we have a teenaged demigoddess on our hand. One who has NEVER had to deal with one of her own periods before."

Sirius blinked. "Shite, I hadn't thought of that!" he cried. "Oh, crap..."

"Whaddaya mean?" Mundungus 'Dung' Fletcher asked, as he discreetly tried to pocket a silvery bauble that rested on a counter behind him, stopping once a stinging hex from Sirius caught him in the wrist. That was some amazing accuracy, he privately admitted.

"We haven't really put Harry's control to the test, so far... What I mean is, we don't know how strong he... well, she, really is. So far, I've seen her punch through magically reinforced walls, use freezing charms so powerful they're impervious to anything we tried to do to undo them and I've seen her take a stunner to the back of the head without even noticing it. I also tried to have the wards kick her out once and she didn't even twitch when they attempted to eject her. Meaning, we've got an indestructible lamia with unknown strength and magic power who could potentially fly off the handle at the slightest trigger during her time of the month, and we can't do crap to stop her," Sirius commented.

"Well, then we just have to keep her in a good mood, right?" asked Daedalus Diggle, looking somewhat concerned.

"And if Harry wasn't Alipheese the Seventeenth, that would be a much simpler task. The Monster Lord was famous for her mercurial temper, at the best of times," Emmeline commented. "Let's just hope we can calm Harry the same way Serpentarius described the last Monster Lord was calmed. This is gonna be murder on the order's budget, though."

The order of Bird Watching Weirdos blinked in confusion. "Explain," Moody commanded, with the authority a master Auror had cultivated over the ages.

"Well, Alipheese the Sixteenth was usually calmed, when she was in one of her moods... by ingesting lots and lots of food. Fortunately, she's a very high level monster, so I don't think Harry will be eating any humans any time soon,"

"Tough luck, guys, given that I know how monsters feed on humans," Sirius commented with a grin, interrupting Emmeline, who glared at him in return.

"Anyway, the point is, we need to stock up on piles and piles of food..."

Molly Weasley suddenly felt that all her years enslaving herself to a stove had finally paid off. "Harry has always loved my cooking," she commented.

"About that... you're probably going to have to move here permanently. If Harry acts the way I expect her to when her period comes, then you'll most likely be forced to accept assistance from a house elf or two, or you just won't be able to keep up," Dumbledore said, his voice kind though his tone was final. "Alas, the hour grows late. We shall meet again, three days from now, and hopefully, I will have a plan to deal with our rather less than ideal situation then. I will be accepting suggestions on how to utilize our newest asset-"

"Oi, don't refer to Harry like that!" Sirius said, almost growling.

"-in the best way possible," Dumbledore finished, sparing a glance at Sirius. "Regardless of the terminology I use to refer to him... her, do remember that despite the body she now possesses, Harry is still a teenager in mind, and I will be forced to veto certain plans that would could possibly traumatize her. The last thing we want is the Monster Lord being traumatized in an unpredictable way," he added, surveying the room through his half-moon specs, noting how Moody seemed to deflate slightly. "Until then, meeting adjourned!"

As the members began to leave, Sirius turned to Remus, who had been seated next to him. "You've been quiet today," he remarked, looking past him at Tonks, who was beginning to get up from the chair, and waving at her.

Remus flushed. "I... might've had my ha- minds- mind elsewhere," he said.

"Moony, you're my friend and all, but this really has to stop. Just go, catch her before she leaves and bring her up to one of the second floor rooms before she blueballs you to death!" Sirius said, letting out a barklike laugh as he stood up. "Seriously, I know you're still worried about what happened to that girl in fifth year, but I'm preeeetty sure Tonks is a lot sturdier."

"You're pimping out your cousin, you know?" Moony retaliated, glaring at Sirius.

"Second cousin," Sirius corrected. Then he stroked his chin for a minute. "I think. Crap, I can't remember. Anyway, I'm not pimping her out, I'm trying to help her help you help yourself to her! Plus, I slept with both of your female cousins, and I've been exchanging letters with Annie," and at that point Remus frowned at the mention of the younger of said cousins, "and she's willing to share a bed with me again, so I'd be more than a bit hypocritical if I grilled you for this," Sirius commented.

"Yeah, but they were older than you! I'd be robbing the cradle here! You're not supposed to be okay with this!" Moony said, his face colored red.

"Pish posh, she's over the age of consent, she's fair game," Sirius said. "She wants you, you want her, and if you fear hurting her, well, she's a trained auror and an adult who knows what she's getting into, so she'd be perfectly capable of defending herself if she has to," he said.

Moony sighed, and began to prepare a retort, when suddenly the door swung open.

"I got tired of waiting for my cue, so I'm just doing this right now," informed a female voice that Moony took a second to recognize as the sole child of any of the marauders, who looked at him in the eye.

All of Moony's problems promptly went away as he stood up.

"That's a good boy," Harry cooed, patting him on the head, "now, tell me why you're really keeping away from her," he said, crossing his arms under his breasts and bringing them up slightly. It was instinctive.

"... I'm afraid I won't measure up to her... She's just so cheerful, full of life and deserves so much better than me that I-"

"Okay, stop there," Harry said, lifting a finger, making a come hither motion towards the table.

Nymphadora 'Don't Call Me Gift of the Nymphs' Tonks walked through the door, smiling widely. "You're such an idiot, Remus. Even if there were any better, I don't want that. I want _you_. I don't care if you're a werewolf or even if you're a Frenchman in disguise!" she said, walking up to him and being forced to look up to him as she invaded his personal space. "It makes no difference to me, because what I want is not the shell, I want this," she said, poking Remus in the chest, and then smiling, saying "and this," before she reached up and poked him in the forehead. "I want the kind hearted, witty and funny Moony of the Marauders, I want the fiercely protective Remus Lupin that would rather die than harm a hair on my head, I want everything that you are!" she said, throwing her arms around his torso and hugging him tightly.

"Tonks, I- I don't know what to say," Remus said, blushing to the roots of his hair as he awkwardly tried to find a way out of this situation that had him so against the ropes.

"How about 'I'll pick you up this saturday at seven and we'll go out for dinner at a fancy restaurant of your choice, courtesy of my good friend Padfoot who would love to spend his family's money on something that would infuriate them so I don't have to complain about receiving charity'?" Sirius suggested.

"Hm... You run into that problem, too?" Harry asked, looking at his godfather.

"Like you wouldn't believe. It was hard as hell for me and Prongs to convince Moony and Wormtail to let us pay for them. Prongs' family was proud he was using his family money to help his friends, and I've always been fond of flaunting my dislike for my family by spending their money in ways they'd object to," Sirius confirmed.

Remus had, meanwhile, repeated the words Sirius had spoken, too embarrassed to change a word of it, and Tonks smiled widely. "Sounds great!" she chirped.

"Don't worry, Tonksie, we'll get him on some robes that won't embarrass you!" Sirius said, throwing an arm over Remus' shoulders.

Harry smiled and did the same. "Yep! If I had to endure being a dress-up doll, you'll suffer the same as me!"

"Hm... you don't have a complete wardrobe yet, Harry," Remus commented, "and I have it on good authority that Tonks does have a good eye for fashion..."

"My very own dress up doll! How did you know it's what I've always wanted?" Tonks joked.

Harry pouted.

"Actually, with your body type and your natural poise, I really want to see what kind of super elaborate dresses you can make look even better than they already do. I've never been able to pull off one of those puffed out XIXth century dresses, but I think you could pull them off perfectly..." Tonks said, her hair perking up and brightening a little as she thought of it. "Yeah, you'd look great in Black..."

Sirius smiled. "Well, I was planning on adopting you into the family, and looking good in black is kind of a family tradition," Sirius joked.

Harry blinked, then looked up at him. For some reason he seemed so impossibly tall. "Padfoot?" he asked, his voice trembling, and feeling fragile all of a sudden.

"I know I'll never replace Prongs or everyone's favorite Tiger Lily, but I'd be honored if you'd let me adopt you as soon as I'm able to, Harry," he said, placing a hand on top of Harry's head and looking down upon him, a kind smile on his face.

Harry's eyes filled with tears.

Moony and Tonks politely, and quietly, excused themselves as Harry tackled Sirius to the ground.

* * *

"What do I do, Hedwig?" Harry asked, looking at his wagging tail as it flicked from side to side. It was an effort to try to increase the level of dexterity he could move it with, and he was seemingly improving by the second, gaining a greater grasp of the instinctive movements and moving his tail in unexpected ways that defied what little he knew of snake biology, including lengthening and shortening it at will instead of the tail doing so automatically, and even making it thinner or thicker, with a bit more effort.

"About what, your Highness?" Hedwig asked.

"About this whole thing. The Monster Lord thing, I mean. Can I really be the Monster Lord?" he asked, looking at the ceiling for a minute, where he imagined a ceiling fan should've been. "Can I really rule over all monsters? I'm just Harry... I'm no one special. The one thing everyone thinks I did was my mother's handiwork, and my own triumphs have been the stroke of consistent good luck," he said, frowning at the words that should've come easily, but he instead had to wrack his brain for. "I can't even craft a decent sentence like that without stopping to think about it! How can I be a good Monster Lord if I can't even do something like this?! King Gnarl was wrong... I can't be the Monster Lord..."

Hedwig leaped from her seat on the floor next to Harry's bed, landing onto the King Sized bed and making Harry bounce slightly. She crawled up to Harry and then sat on top of Harry's stomach, directly over his navel. "Your highness... master... I KNOW that you can be a good Monster Lord," Hedwig said, reaching with her wings to caress Harry's cheeks. "I know because I know you. I know that you're a kind and caring person, and that you'll put the safety of all your subjects and loved ones before your own. I know that you will never betray our trust in you, and that your heart has enough love for all of your children, direct or indirect," she said, leaning down so they were almost nose to nose, their eyes locked together. "If nothing else, then trust in me. Trust in me to know that you are right for the throne. Believe in me, for I believe in you, and so will my children and their children, and all harpies descended from my line, from now until forevermore! This I swear to you, my queen!" she said, her voice firm and solemn.

"Hedwig, I-" Harry began, gulping, "am I even worthy of such trust from you?"

"Yes, you are!" Hedwig said, leaning back slightly. "I knew... I knew from the first time I saw you. I could feel the power brimming beneath the surface. I could feel your kind heart when you gave up what little food you had so I would not starve in your relatives' home, when I was locked up in that silly cage! I could feel your pain, your sorrow and guilt over something that you could not help! I KNOW that you are worthy, Master! Why won't you see this!?" she nearly yelled in frustration.

"It's just-"

"And you were complaining about the werewolf's lack of self esteem!? Master, I don't know what I must do to convince you... but I implore you, take my word for it! You are great! You just need to allow yourself a chance to prove it!" Hedwig said. "Your courage, your kindness, your strength- Those aren't flukes! Nobody possessed or forced you to put yourself at risk to avert others' suffering! Nobody would've gone forward even though the path they trod upon was long, dark and filled with spike pits! It's not your lucky victories that define you, Master, but what you endured to achieve them!"

Harry was silent, before he abruptly sat up to meet Hedwig halfway and embraced his owl, turned into a Harpy, resting his head on the harpy's shoulder, tightening his hug as he began to sob. "Thank you, Hedwig," he murmured through the sobs that wracked his body.

"I'm always here for you, Master. Always have, always will be," she explained.

"I'm sorry I haven't always been the best owner," Harry began, his tone apologetic.

Hedwig shushed him. "You're all I've ever wanted, Master..." she muttered, stroking Harry's silver hair as she did. "And you're the best Monster Lord I could ask for..."

Harry just continued to sob, as Hedwig began to rub soothing circles on his back. Harry leaned back a bit, to look at Hedwig in the face, and opened his mouth to speak, "I-"

"Hush," Hedwig interrupted him, smiling and letting Harry's weight slowly carry them down so they both rested on the bed. Hedwig twisted and turned until Harry's head rested halfway on her chest, a position that would've been uncomfortable to someone not with the innate increased strength and durability of a monster girl. "You've been through a lot these past few days, Master... It's okay to rest for a while. Tomorrow's gonna be another day, but for now, you can rest. You've more than earned it," she said, smiling benignly at Harry, who nodded sleepily and began to doze off in Hedwig's arms.

It didn't take very long for Harry to finally succumb to his emotional exhaustion, as he finally left the realm of the conscious.

"Hm... how I've longed for this day, Master," Hedwig muttered, running her hands through Harry's silky tresses. "It's gonna be okay, I promise master... even if I have to kill every last one of those sons of bitches and pave the road below you with their blood and bones, I swear I will defend you until the day death do us part!"

Harry sleepily moaned in contentment at the raw feelings he perceived, his mind too far gone to truly hear the words.


	9. Disloyalty

**Monster Lord**

**Chapter 8: Disloyalty  
**

* * *

Summary: Hoping for the enemy to stay idle was wishful thinking. Other forces begin moving. Disloyalty is rampant.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy hid his distaste with the skill and experience of a man who had to be in the same room as people he despised frequently and regularly. He swept his eyes across the dinning room that his home, the Malfoy Mansion, boasted. It was a lavish, expertly decorated and spacious room, made to host the dinner parties that Lucius' father, Abraxas, liked to host, inviting his extended family. It was decorated in green, silver and white gold, in Slytherin tradition, not overly so. Tastefully, Lucius thought, even if he believed the golden snake that served as the frame for his father's portrait was a bit tacky.

This room had hosted no less than three dozen of his father's dinners and a slew of other functions. This was the room that Malfoy invited his most valued guests to, the room he used to impress upon Fudge the fundamental difference between a high born Lord and the stooge that he had helped onto the seat of Minister.

Much as his father's, this room was Lucius' pride and joy...

But now, a deep feeling of disgust and shame filled him when he lay eyes on it. Rabble and riff raff, every time he turned his eyes, were desecrating his home, invited in by the Dark Lord. Lucius had welcomed his master into his home with nary a protest, knowing that if he said no, Voldemort would just kill him and take his home regardless. He'd long ago been disillusioned with the Dark Lord and his agenda, knowing the man would be the death of pureblood society.

He'd hoped against hope that Tom Riddle, the shade of a Voldemort from fifty years past, would be untained and able to resume where his older self got lost on the way to greatness, but that damnable Potter boy had done the impossible and defeated both the Dark Lord and Slytherin's Monster. Oh, he knew very well the specifics of Potter's little romp down the Chamber of Secrets. He'd left charms on the diary to monitor its progress, after all, he'd been ready to swoop in and rescue it the moment it was discovered by Dumbledore or, Merlin forbid, a seventh year capable of Fiendfyre.

All that Lucius knew, however, was that it had been Potter who destroyed the diary, and that it had been in an 'unknown place' within Hogwarts at the time it had happened, but he was a smart man, and could very easily connect the dots.

But he was digressing in an attempt to distract himself from the tarnishing of his pride and joy. Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange were beasts, there was no doubt about it, but even they would not be as disgusting in conduct and appearance as the Prince Patriarch. It was a startling contrast how the pureblood man was a barbarian at best, downing Firewhiskey like water and boasting of his prowess as he recounted the events of the last raid he'd been in, while his halfblood grand nephew, Severus Snape, was calm, quiet and collected, drinking water and keeping himself perfectly alert.

Not too far, he could see that one of Vincent Crabbe the Elder's brothers, Lucius had never bothered to learn their names, was none too subtly groping his wife and forcing the woman to give a show to a ring of Death Eaters around them as he did so. The woman, Lucius noted, was clearly enjoying the attention. Beasts, the lot of them. He would never dream of subjecting Narcissa to such a thing, and Narcissa would never dream of being forced to give such a display, not even to Lucius himself, much less so surrounded by men all too eager to put their meat hooks on her.

But it was pointless to dwell on that. If he began to doubt or hesitate, the Dark Lord would quickly find it a reason to question his loyalty, and at that point, it wouldn't take long before he was killed. That, by itself, wouldn't be the worst, no. The worst would be that Lucius would not die until he was tortured and made an example of by the Dark Lord, to discourage disloyalty, and his family would be used to break him completely. He could not bear the thought of seeing Narcissa broken, made into a pet for the Dark Lord and his servants' amusement. He could not stomach the thought of Draco being tortured and brainwashed until he was a loyal puppet.

No. For the sake of his family, Lucius Malfoy would endure serving the monstrosity that was his once proud and powerful master.

For the sake of his family, Lucius Malfoy would endure the destruction of everything else he held dear, the desecration and disrespect paid to his belongings, his traditions, his self.

The Malfoy patriarch's sense of self preservation snapped to attention, and his eyes left the Crabbes' disgusting display to find themselves drawn to the 'throne' put at the head of the long table that dominated the room.

"Lucius. I want you to get the Greengrasses to pledge themselves to our cause," Voldemort intoned, voice oddly high pitched and raspy. Even his charming good lucks and enthralling voice had faded as the man became an inhuman monster, and not even his resurrection had done anything to solve that.

"I understand, Master," Lucius intoned, internally raging at the thought of having to lower himself to the position of a house elf, avoiding the Dark Lord's eyes and staring pointedly at the ground in a gesture of submission, but also as an effort to avoid a probe of legilimency that would no doubt spell doom for the Malfoy family.

And to think, at one point they were some of his most ardent supporters, he mused to himself.

"You've got one chance, Lucius. Do not disappoint me," Voldemort ordered.

Lucius knew that he would have punctuated his statement with a spell, had he the ability, but Voldemort had strangely cut back on spellcasting. His Yew Wand, a wand that Lucius knew to be impressively powerful, having had a chance to wield it himself when Wormtail had delivered it to him after hiding from Black (it had, ironically, been Lucius' own plan that led to Wormtail hiding with the Weasleys... He did hate that family, and thought them simpletons. He had a precedent to believe that the Weasleys were not intelligent enough to check a gift horse in the mouth when he'd left the diary with their youngest), had failed to react to him at all.

Instead, the Dark Lord had been making a great deal more use of wandless magic. Summoning, banishing, torture curses , elemental magic and transfiguration had all become so simple to the Dark Lord that he could cast them without a wand over the years, and his ability with them only grew as he was rendered unable to use his wand.

There was no telling what had caused it, but it had coincided with Harry Potter withdrawing from his relatives' care, if the men keeping an eye on the records were to be believed. Perhaps Potter had done something to increase his own power and it had, indirectly, affected the Dark Lord through the blood that they now shared?

It would remain to be seen if the Dark Lord was facing a setback due to this, or had instead grown even stronger. He refrained from casting with his increased power, as he had accidentally killed more than one man with his torture curses, and reduced two others to gibbering wrecks, much like it had taken an hour for the Lestranges and Crouch to achieve with the Longbottoms.

It almost gave Lucius the chills to think of that incredibly powerful monster growing even stronger.

As he left his own home to the mercy of the animals currently inhabiting it (he had no fear for the safety of everything he kept in that room, the Dark Lord had claimed it as 'his' and anyone stealing from 'his' property would face horrible torture and an ignoble death), he could only think that he was setting out to ruin the lives of yet another proud, strong pureblood family, submitting them to the same curse he was under.

Oh, how he hated himself, if for nothing else but for the small, unforgivable twinge of satisfaction that he felt at the thought of ruining another, like his own folly had ruined him. It would even be laughably simple.

He was made aware of the younger Greengrass girl's crush on his son. All he'd have to do is offer the possibility of a marriage contract, and they'd be jumping into his mine cart without even looking at the depths of darkness that lay before them.

* * *

"Mr. Garrick Ollivander, I believe?" a feminine voice called, startling, crisp and clear.

Said wandcrafter's head snapped to the source of the words so fast he actually did make a sound as his neck bones popped. He'd been so bored waiting for the influx of school children that would come as soon as classes were about to restart, that he had actually been distracted. That wasn't usual. Still, his eyes spent a second focusing on the woman that had just wandered into his shop.

She wore a simple green cloak thrown over what looked to be a rather more elaborate green dress, that exposed a great deal of cleavage. Ollivander's eyes focused for an instant on hers, his own, gray-blue eyes focusing on eyes that were too pure blue to be human. A Veela, perhaps? It was possible. The woman was unearthly beautiful, that much was certain, she had the requisite fair hair and skin, and she was positively oozing power. Perhaps a Veela Matriarch? Her poise was regal and her bearing dignified. If she was Veela, then her blood was definitely pure and powerful.

A frown crossed Ollivander's face. True, Pure-Blood Veela did not need wands to use magic. So what would one be doing in his shop?

"Yes indeed, I am he," Ollivander said. "Though I believe you have me at a disadvantage. I don't recall selling a wand to you, miss..?" he trailed off, prompting her to introduce herself.

"My name isn't important," she said, smiling an easy smile that had the wandmaker actively wondering if she was even aware of the effect she had on men. She looked young. Twenty, perhaps? No, Veela tend to look younger than they are, even to the standards of a witch, so she could very well be approaching her forties. She was perfectly aware of her allure and the effects her body had on men, then. She was intentionally trying to entice him, so he'd be more compliant. Still, he supposed he could respect her unvoiced request for privacy.

"Very well, miss, may I inquire what business you might have with me?" he asked, knowing full well this woman was not coming for a wand.

"You may," she replied, but raised a hand to her head. She pulled the hood of the cloak back and allowed her face and hair to be free from the hood, which let her true beauty be more than a bit apparent.

Ollivander's breath caught in his throat, and he could do little but admire the perfect creature that stood before him. So perfect, in fact, that he'd even call her... divine.

She reached one hand to just above her temple and with a bit of care, she singled out one of her golden hairs, pulling it out of her scalp with one swift tug. The hair was so long that Ollivander was sure that, behind the cloak, her hair trailed to the middle of her back, and he felt an unexplainable urge to run his hands through it.

Her other hand dug into the pockets of her cloak, and it wasn't long before she pulled out an immaculate white piece of wood, roughly twelve inches long, three inches thick and three inches wide, if Ollivander had to make a guess. "Is that..?"

"A very special wood, and a very special catalyst. Appropriately, I have a very special request."

"I don't make custom-made wands, and I usually restrict myself to Phoenix Feather, Dragon Heartstring or Unicorn Tailhair wands," Ollivander informed her.

She smiled, closed her eyes and looked faintly amused, if nothing else. "I imagined you wouldn't wish to miss the chance to work with the materials I am providing you," she informed him, putting the block of wood on Ollivander's counter, and laying the hair on top of it. "This wand's owner will come for it soon," she said, using the hand that had plucked the hair out of her head, her right hand, to dig into the right pocket of her cloak, pulling out a small brown bag. "This should more than cover the cost."

"How will I know who the wand belongs to?" he asked, believing that she wished for a specific person.

She smiled, and shook her head. "The same as any other wand. How else?" she asked.

"Are you so certain that its intended owner will be the one who reacts to it?" Ollivander asked. Magical creatures had a great deal of leeway on who wands made with their willingly given parts could bond with, as a certain amount of the essence of the animal it was taken from was imprinted in the wand's core, hence the thought that wands were, if not sentient, then at least capable of imitating life.

"Yes, quite," she said.

Ollivander supposed that it was her decision, in the end. "And what if the wand reacts to someone else?"

"If any other than its intended reacts to it, then it shall be theirs," she said, shaking her head. "Still, I don't believe it will. It has been a pleasure doing business with you," she said, bowing slightly, turning around and walking out of the shop.

"How peculiar," Ollivander said, mostly to himself. "... I can't seem to remember her face. Oh, dear, it appears I've been put under her spell, so to speak," he mused to himself. He absent mindedly noted how she was given a wide berth as she walked through the somewhat busy alley, walking towards the Leaky Cauldron, most likely. "Lovely woman," he muttered to himself, pulling out a large piece of cloth and wrapping the wood and hair in it. "I don't know what either of you are, and I doubt I will ever discover, but I suppose a challenge is as good as any reason to create a wand."

And talking about wands, a client was walking into the store. Time to get in position.

Scaring the firsties was always bloody hilarious.

* * *

"Well, isn't that curious," Harry said, as he tried once more to get the unlocking charm to let himself free of the room he'd been locked in by Sirius. "Okay... Screw this," he said to himself, as he simply punched the lock and broke it entirely, his fist going through the space the door handle had been in a mere second ago. "Didn't even feel that. Nice," Harry said to himself.

"Well, of course," Hedwig said, from where she relaxed on his bed. "What, did you expect yourself to be so fragile you could harm yourself by punching a hard surface too hard? You're not human anymore, Master," she supplied. "It's a good thing you've got me, Master, because apparently you're unable to make leaps of logic on your own."

"You've gotten cheeky, I think I liked you better when you couldn't talk," Harry said, sarcastically.

Hedwig smiled. "I know you well enough to be able to tell when you're lying, Master!" she chirped.

"... Yeah, you're right," Harry admitted, sighing, and Hedwig began to laugh, which made her chest move in wonderful ways, Harry noted.

"I heard the commotion! Did anything happen!?" a suddenly frantic Ron, followed by a just as frantic Hermione, suddenly spilled into the room.

"Oh. That. Sirius locked me in here with Hedwig last night, apparently, and I couldn't get the unlocking charm to work with my wand, so I just punched the door open. It saved time," Harry said, as if what he had done was perfectly logical.

"While I'm always up for random violence to scare Ron, could you do it in a way that doesn't scare ME too next time?" Ginny's sleepy voice came as she walked up to the 'Golden Trio', rubbing her eyes. "Harry, why aren't you wearing anything?"

Ron's eyes suddenly almost exploded from his head as he saw his best mate, his best MALE mate, giving him a show of everything he- no, she, goddammit, and there was no one that could convince Ron otherwise- had to offer. "Blimey," he squeaked.

"... I'm deeply jealous," Hermione stated, plainly.

"So am I, and you don't see me complaining about it," Ginny said, flatly.

Hedwig laughed and draped herself all over Harry. Her naked breasts were quite obvious even as they were pressed against Harry's shoulders.

"... Wait. She's naked, too-"

Ron and Ginny immediately collapsed on the floor, twitching feebly.

"... What just happened?" Harry asked, utterly confused.

"Just put some clothes on," Hermione said, frustrated.

* * *

Sirius sighed. "Moony here is proof that the Mystic Eyes mess you up badly. Well, either that or he might've been more damaged than we thought he was when Harry bitch-slapped him. Point is, you really don't want to get hit by those things."

Moody nodded. "Still, the lad... lass now, I suppose, has too much power in her hands."

"What do you mean, Sirius?"

"That'd just take too long to explain. Besides, I'm trying to convince Moody here to help train Harry in the usage of his powers, so I can't explain," Sirius said, waving him off.

"Hey! It's my health we're talking about!" Remus complained.

"Like he said, not important," Moody countered. "We'll have to find the lass. Best get'er used to female pronouns, too, gonna be annoying to keep remembering to change depending on whether or not she's in the room."

There was the sound of a door slamming open. "Honey, I'm home!" Harry cried as he entered the room. "Hey, everyone! I got a big problem!"

"... That's awfully convenient," Remus noted.

"Whatever. I need a new wand!"

"And we need to get your school supplies, too," Sirius noted. "Also, since I'm guessing your old wand doesn't work for some reason, how did you get out of your room?"

Harry smiled. "I'm gonna need a new door, too," he noted.

"Eh, screw that. Kreacher!" Sirius yelled, and suddenly, there was an old, nasty-looking and even worse smelling House Elf standing next to them.

"... Why is filthy blood traitor master calling Kreacher? Does filthy blood traitor master want Kreacher to cook breakfast?" the elf said, noting it was in the kitchen and looking around, its tennis ball sized eyes locking onto the cupboard where Sirius knew a whole bunch of poisonous substances were kept in case food came alive. It was distressingly common in places where magic abounded.

"Go fix Harry's door, and when you're done with that, you'll go back to cleaning."

"Is Kreacher allowed to exterminate pests?" Kreacher asked.

"If you find my counsins' pets, you have full reign to kill them however you wish," Sirius confirmed. "Also, I found out where the Doxy infestation came from," he added, looking at Moody, Moony and Harry.

"That explains so much, and yet raises so many questions..." Remus said.

"Which of them kept the tentacle monster?" Moody asked.

Sirius snorted. "None. It was Regulus'," he explained.

"Ewwww," everyone, including Kreacher, said as the implications hit.

"Kreacher's master Regulus was kind, but he had weird fetishes," Kreacher informed, looking somewhat contrite.

"I did not need to know that," Sirius said, disgust etched in his face.

"Anyway, since you're unrecognizable, I don't see why I can't take you to Diagon Alley-" Moony began, only to be stopped by Moody.

"Nay. The lass won' be recognized, sure, but you cert'nly will," Moody interrupted. "Ah'll take'r myself."

"You ARE aware that I'm a man under this body, right?" Harry asked.

Moody snorted. "Yer we'ring little girl knickers and ye've got tits. Far as I care, yer a girl," he said.

Harry looked at him in the eye. "You will treat me as a man," he said, looking at him intensely.

"Sure thin', lass, never been one for gender roles, meself," Moody said, shrugging.

"... That was a poorly worded order, wasn't it?" Harry asked, looking at Moody.

"Aye, that it was," he confirmed, before clearing his throat and shaking his head a little. "I'll teach you how to make better worded oaths later. For now, go get ready. I'll take you and you alone, since you can't risk being seen in public with your friends," he explained.

"... where did the thick accent you had a moment ago go?" Harry asked, somewhat surprised.

"Me accent's fer misdirection, lassie, I'm perfectly capable of masking it. However, I had to hit myself with a sobering charm," Moody countered. "It clears your mind, whether it's from the buzz of alcohol or the one coming from the drowsiness potion Black fed me," he explained.

"Sirius! I told you, no pranking!" Remus admonished.

Moody snorted. "Constant Vigilance, lassie!" he said, grinning in a nasty way.

"Oh," Moony said.

"Wait. I don't get it. What just happened?" Harry asked, confused.

"I asked Black to prank me every way he could while I'm around. It helps me keep my guard up at all times," Moody confirmed.

"And it's fun, too, since he's been forcing me to get more creative with my pranks," Sirius admitted.

"Still, go get ready, lass. Get a robe. Don't want you poking an eye out with those nipples of yours," Moody said, a grin on his face that told Harry he could see his perked up nipples.

For the first time since Harry got his female body, he actually felt somewhat defensive over it. "Keep that eye to yourself, or I'll take both," he said, growling.

"Actually, Harry, your nipples are kind of poking out..." muttered Remus, pointedly looking aside.

"Oh. So they are," Harry said, looking down. "Well, I'll go get a bra or something. Maybe I really should pay more attention to Hermione when she tells me those things," Harry muttered as he began to walk all the way back to his room.

* * *

So... Really want feedback on my portrayal of Lucius, there. I'm trying to see how close I can come to the canon Lucius, who is very clearly a pureblood supremacist, while at the same time trying to make up a reason why he would willingly betray Voldemort. In canon, you're supposed to believe he really loves Draco and Narcissa, and that they're all 'good' people in the end, but frankly, they're all HORRIBLE people. All three are racist and the reason they betray Voldemort isn't due to guilt or even comprehending that the things he does are bad, no, it's to save their own skins.

Lacking the balls to become a murderer doesn't mean Draco is a good guy. It just means he's a coward on top of everything else, something that is quite supported by his usual behavior. Loving her son doesn't make Narcissa a good gal. Same with Lucius.

So I'm trying to portray them as complex people, rather than the cartoonishly black and white portrayal you see in fanfiction. I don't really like it when characters are either wholly virtuous or wholly wicked. Everyone has their virtues and flaws. I'm not gonna punish a guy for being pissed at the girl who murdered his father, enough to attempt to murder her in return, like a certain fic I could name that pretends that its monstruous protagonist is truly virtuous and everyone who opposes him is wholly wicked. What I am gonna punish him for is for being an elitist prick.

Making him a better person requires punishing him to show him that his is the wrong path to life, after all.


End file.
